


STAY

by Spartacus_Lives



Category: Glee
Genre: "I do", Awesome Santana Lopez, Brittana friendship, Cheating, Depression, Dirty Dancing, Dry Humping, F/M, Face-Sitting, Finn Hudson is a beautiful human, Finn Hudson is a really good boyfriend, Finn POV, Finn attempting to peel back Santana's many layers, Finntana - Freeform, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, I hate Rachel Berry, Karaoke, Kissing, Mostly Cannon Compliant, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Protective Santana Lopez, References to Brittany/Sam, References to past hook up, Santana Lopez gives Rachel Berry an epic verbal smackdown, Santana POV, Santana backstory, Santana has a heart she just pretends she doesn't, Santana is a lesbian but it's complicated, Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Underage Drinking, Wedding Recpetion, lap dance, references to Brittana, references to Finnchel, set mid season 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25308772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spartacus_Lives/pseuds/Spartacus_Lives
Summary: Set mid-season 4 during "I do" at the reception after Will and Emma didn't get married, cannon up to that point, with the exception that Rachel took her new boyfriend to the wedding.“Brody?” Santana thought of a string of sneers to cheer Finn up, “he’s like a Ken Doll.”Finn looked down, forlorn, “Yeah.”Santana was being honest about Rachel’s boy toy, while appeasing Finn, “Seriously, he’s like shiny and waxed all over. Unless he’s some kind of Olympic swimmer or Bonds underwear model. That isnotnormal behavior.”Finn chuckled, smiling into his drink, “I’ve missed you.”She grinned a little sadly, “I’m trying to avoid the Blondie Snugglefest happening over there.” Gesturing with her chin at Britt and Sam. She knew she sounded bitter, “Sam could probably get Britt’s whole head in his humungous mouth.”Finn looked over at the young lovers.He raised his glass, “To getting too drunk to care that my recently ex-fiancé has already moved on!”“I’ll cheers to that!” She agreed, clinking the glass on glass.
Relationships: Finn Hudson/Santana Lopez
Comments: 92
Kudos: 69





	1. Shelter from the storm

**Author's Note:**

> _**A/N:** Firstly, I wanted to express my sincerest sympathies to Naya Rivera’s friends and family. I can’t imagine what they are going through. I feel devastated and am randomly being reduced to sobbing, and also feel like her loss hasn’t really sunk in for me yet, and I am a fan who has never met her. I also can’t believe it’s been seven years since Cory died, his loss is still so present.  
> I want to thank Naya for the inspiration she has given me personally, more than she’ll ever know. Naya, as a person of colour, and giving a respectful LGBTI representation on mainstream TV, her legacy is so important. I am in awe of her talent as a singer and an actor, dancer and author. I felt really connected to her from watching Glee and being able to relate to Santana’s struggles, but became really attached to Naya after reading her memoir, which was so deeply personal and just brave. And the accounts of her nearest and dearest only confirm for me what a wonderful person Naya is, as a family member, friend, and mother. Strong, brave, bold and honest, qualities I highly value. Naya you are awesome! Thank you for making every day for me just a little brighter because I could watch you, or hear your voice, or check your insta status! The world is a colder place for the loss of your sunshine!  
> This story is a getting together/ hurt comfort scenario between Finn and Santana, there is a storyline, but there’s a fair amount of smut too. I meant no offence- I had written 90% of it before Naya went missing. While Naya was missing, I was looking for news updates every 4 minutes or so, and was making myself crazy. I eventually went back and edited this story as a way of coping. Since the news of her loss, I am bouncing back and forth between listening to my favorite Naya performances, particularly ‘If I die young’ and the video of Naya and Josey singing Skimarmarinky doo and bawling my eyes out.  
> Writing this story helped me, I don’t know if reading it will help anyone else. I try not to judge the way people grieve. In the fantasy in my head Naya and Cory are together and happy and so are Santana and Finn.  
> Consistent with the series up to season 4 episode “I do” _   
>  **Except:  
>  1\. Rachel takes Brody to the wedding, and while she’s trying to be respectful about not making out with him in front of Finn, Finn is still shattered. This also means that the scene at the start of the episode where Rachel meets Finn for coffee and Finn confesses to her that he kissed Miss Pilsbury didn’t happen, nor did Rachel’s speech where she tells him to ‘pretend to be the supportive best man’.  
> 2\. Quinn is not having a bi-curious moment (not that I didn’t love that in the actual episode 😊). Santana’s loneliness is increased by seeing Brittany and Sam together.  
> 3\. Finn and Rachel don’t perform a duet together, and the conversation they had right before the duet in the episode where Finn says no matter what, Rachel’s still his girlfriend, likewise does not take place.  
> 4\. Santana is wearing a dark red satin strapless dress, with a side split, rather than what she was wearing in the episode.  
> PS- While I generally detest storylines that make a cannon gay character suddenly not gay, based on the way the characters are written and acted I have always felt that Santana has unresolved feelings for Finn. So, I don’t think her hooking up with Finn necessary constitutes a break with canon- but feel free to hate it if you want to. I do actually explain/ justify why I’m playing it this way.  
> Synopsis: A drunk and depressed Finn hooks up with a drunk and depressed Santana at the Will and Emma wedding… well the reception that went ahead despite the lack of nuptials anyway. I originally intended this as a one shot set over 2 days, but I’ve continued to make it longer, so I’m not sure at this stage. While there are references to Brittana (Brittany/ Santana) and Finchel (Finn/ Rachel) and Bram (Brittany / Sam) and Klaine (Kurt/ Blaine) this is very much a Finntana story.**

Finn sat at the bar knocking back his fourth whisky on ice. He was still trying not to gag because he was shocked it could taste this bad. _How do adults drink this shit!_

He wanted to feel the burn of it going down his throat. _Eventually I’ll feel numb._

He was trying not to watch Rachel and her new boyfriend on the dance floor, but it was hard not to. _Why couldn’t she have left him in New York? He’s at NYADA, so he must be a better singer than me, and he’s all handsome and toned._

_To hell with this!_

_To hell with everything!_

_Maybe I’ll just blow out of here, I mean there’s no wedding now… because of me._

_Maybe I’ll just take a long drive in the night air, at a hundred miles an hour with the windows down and just see what happens…_

Finn stood up and skulled the remainder of his drink.

Santana strutted up to the bar. He’d seen her earlier but he’d failed to notice the strapless, dark red satin dress she was wearing then, probably because he was caught up in her announcement that Miss Pilsbury had fled the scene.

“I’ll have a Martini,” Santana spoke to the middle-aged bartender.

“Can I see some ID?” She asked.

Santana fished into her purse for what must have been a fake ID, “Rosario Cruz, 25.”

“Thanks,” Said the bartender and busied herself preparing the cocktail.

“Rosario,” He smirked, “long time, no see.”

She smiled wryly before asking, “You leaving?” As she saw Finn getting his jacket on.

“Yeah,” He said, “I’ve had enough.”

Her hand reached out and slid down the length of his arm, stopping at his wrist, “Stay.”

Finn stopped, considering it for a moment.

 _Why the hell not_ , Finn ordered another whisky.

“How many have you had?” She asked, _actually_ sounding concerned.

“Not enough,” He replied flatly, _it still hurts._

Santana did a double take, as if she was shocked somehow. 

“What? No snarky comment,” He challenged her rudely.

She was calm and shook her head, and in an amused way said, “Nah, it’s no fun kicking someone who’s already down.”

)))))))))))))))))))Santana POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

On closer inspection, Finn had dark circles under his eyes, he looked haunted, like he’d hardly slept in days. And he was slurring his words a little.

_He’s hanging by a thread._

“Since when do you drink?” She asked, trying not to sound like she was his mother.

He sighed, gesturing with his head to the dancefloor, “Since Rachel brought her new boyfriend as her plus 1.”

_You're ten times the man he is!_

So, Finn was drowning his sorrows. She could get with that, she was somewhat the same. Santana only had to look at the Aryan Sex Convention on the other side of the dancefloor between Britt and Lipsy McChapstick to be reminded of her own desire for a drunken stupor.

“Brody?” Santana thought of a string of sneers to cheer Finn up, “he’s like a Ken Doll.”

Finn looked down, forlorn, “Yeah.” As if he’d thought she’d meant Brody was perfection.

_That was an insult, Finn!_

“I meant, made of plastic and hollow inside,” She corrected.

Finn just did his half smirk thing, that she was finding adorable all of a sudden.

Santana was being honest about Rachel’s boy toy, while appeasing Finn, “And seriously, he’s like shiny and waxed all over. Unless he’s some kind of Olympic swimmer or Bonds underwear model. That is _not_ normal behavior.”

Finn chuckled, smiling into his drink, “I’ve missed you.”

She grinned a little sadly, “I’m trying to avoid the Blondie Snugglefest happening over there.” Gesturing with her chin at Britt and Sam. She knew she sounded bitter, “Sam could probably get Britt’s whole head in his humungous mouth.”

Finn looked over at the young lovers.

He raised his glass, “To getting too drunk to care that my recently ex-fiancé has already moved on!”

“I’ll cheers to that!” She agreed, clinking the glass on glass.

_Needs more gin!_

“He’s so dull,” Santana went back to her dilemma, “as someone who dated Lips McGee, I spent the whole time Frenching him so I wouldn’t have to listen to all the boring shit he says!”

Finn clearly wasn’t entirely comfortable with the ‘sledging your ex’s new beau’ game she was, “Come on, Sam’s our friend.”

“Whatever!” She took another long swallow of her cocktail. Santana knew the look on his face, “Spill, Hudson, what did you do?”

But he chose to play dumb, “What do you mean?”

But Santana was having none of it, “You're wearing your gassy infant look.”

Finn’s brow crinkled, not understanding in the slightest.

“That’s Finn Hudson for ‘I’m guilty’,” Santana let him know, “so, what did you do?”

Finn froze as if scared she really did know something.

“Or don’t tell me,” She teased, “I can probably guess.”

Finn shook his head slightly, “No, I don’t think…”

“You somehow think this is all your fault.”

Finn gagged on his whisky and began coughing.

 _Getting warmer_. Finn looked like, whatever it was that he’d done, he thought it was _really_ bad, “Tell me you didn’t sleep with Virgin McNeat Freak before Mr Schue got to.”

She was trying for humor more than he actually meant that comment. But, Finn stared at her wide eyed and full of panic for a moment as if considering if she really could read his mind, “What?!” He finally said, “No!” but he was clearly troubled over her words, “Wait… you think Miss Pilsbury is a …”

Santana nodded, “Wouldn’t be surprised,” She raised an eyebrow and grinned deviously at him.

Finn couldn’t contain his amazement, “But she’s like thirty something…”

Santana explained it to the country boy, “When Doe-eyed McClean ran the Celibacy Club she used to make little comments and frankly, that only confirmed what I already thought.”

Finn was embarrassed and so shocked he seemed ready to jump out of his skin, “But still… like _never_? Didn’t she marry that dentist?”

Santana was self-satisfied, “Sex is messy, or have you forgotten?” God, she loved to remind him of the time they slept together. Now she just couldn’t help herself.

The way Finn’s head snapped around and his nervous look let her know he was remembering back.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” Finn tried to redirect the conversation back to PG-13 territory.

Santana’s expression said ‘suit yourself’ as she made eye contact with the bartender to see about another cocktail since she’d finished the last one already. 

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Finn was back to blaming himself for the lack of nuptials right now. Santana seemed amused by the whole thing.

He didn’t mean to, but he uttered, “This is _so_ much worse than I thought.”

_No wonder Miss P freaked out so much._

_Mr Schue is gonna hate me._

“What did you do?” Santana asked, in an ‘out with it’ kind of way. Like a parent.

But he couldn’t get the words out. He was too ashamed.

Santana seemingly let it drop, “Let’s talk about you.”

“There’s not much to say, when Mr Schue gets back, his Glee Club is no more.”

“I said _you_ ,” Santana pointed out his obvious avoidance. “If Berry can find a life-size Ken doll to date, then I’m sure you can find someone too.”

He looked over at Rachel, she was sitting with Brody now, and laughing at something apparently funny that Mr Plastic had said.

 _I don’t want someone, I want **her**_. He took a long swallow of his whisky just letting it burn.

Finn felt sick, maybe it was the booze, but he kind of didn’t think so.

“I need some air,” Finn mumbled as he retreated, he tried to loosen his bowtie because he literally couldn’t breathe. He found the nearest exit. It was twilight by now, he was alone and the cold air on his cheeks was refreshing.

He had been thinking back to their motel tryst a little bit, only because he was trying not to think about Rachel so much, and he really didn’t have any other comparisons. And Santana being Santana, probably knew it too. He couldn’t think about Quinn that way anymore, he truly felt that the chapter with her had come to an end.

He heard the door snap a few minutes later. He looked out over the balcony, not even bothering to see who it was.

“I bet the worst thing you’ve ever done…”

It was Santana.

“… wouldn’t even make my top 10 list,” She sounded like she wanted him to make a game of it.

 _That’s probably true._ That made him smile, “Like what?”

Santana thought for a while, taking a long swallow of her new cocktail.

“The first time I kissed Brittany, I told her that I wanted to practice so that when I got with guys I would know what to do.”

Finn thought that was amusing more than bad, “When was this?”

“Start of freshman year.”

“Brittany believed you had never kissed a guy in ninth grade?” Then Finn realized they were talking about Brittany, so maybe he shouldn’t be so astonished.

“Britt believes everything I tell her,” Santana stated plainly, then she looked sad for a moment and then she shook it off.

Finn was unimpressed, “That isn’t that bad.”

“It is if you trick someone _that gullible_ into having sex with you,” Santana shot back.

 _That is bad,_ but he didn’t say it, he couldn’t attack her.

But he knew what she meant. Finn had never pursued Brittany the way just about everyone else on the football team had, he’d kissed her once at a party freshman year, but when she wanted to take things further, he turned her down, she seemed so childlike to him, it seemed wrong somehow.

Santana uncharacteristically kept confessing, “I told her sex between girls didn’t count.” Santana looked far away from a moment as if remembering back, sadly, “You know Britt was cheating on Artie the whole time with me, but I said it wasn’t cheating, because the plumbing is different.”

Finn honestly didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m shocking you,” She observed sharply.

Finn was still at a loss for words.

“Sometimes I think Britt’s so… stunted, it’s never going to be… equal,” Santana admitted despondently.

Then she went quiet as if that was the first time she’d ever consciously thought that, or said it out loud perhaps.

Finn nodded slowly in understanding.

_I’ve got nothing to lose._

“Since your being so…” Finn tried to articulate what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn’t make her stop, “… _upfront_ , can I ask you something?”

Santana smiled cheekily, “I’m half in the bag and my tongue is loose, proceed at your own peril,” Santana warned.

_At least she’s still in good humor._

Finn was up for that, “Junior year, my Mom’s wedding, you seemed _in_ to me.”

Santana crossed her arms defensively, “Where’s the question?”

“Did you _really_ want to date me?” Finn finally asked. Ever since he’d learned about Santana’s _orientation_ many months later, Finn had wondered why she’d done that, because he really had thought she meant it at the time. “Or were you just looking for… you know… a way to keep hiding?”

At the time, Santana seemed really hurt when he didn’t want her. And even after Finn had broken up with Rachel and he’d picked back up with Quinn, Santana’s response was to give him mono. Then she broke up Sam and Quinn only to drop Sam a few weeks later.

Santana really stared at him then, her eyes flicking up and down trying to ascertain his motivation. _She wants to know why I still want the answer. Years later._

She spoke plainly, “No, I meant it,” Her face softened.

He knew it was a sad question, but he had to know, “Why?”

Frankly, he’d lost his mojo. Santana Lopez was walking sex, a woman so powerful and stunning everyone seemed bland by comparison, if he’d managed to get her attention, he wanted to know how he’d done it.

“When we had sex, I didn’t really care about you,” Santana readily admitted, “beyond thinking you were cute if a bit dumb.”

Finn was wondering if he was going to regret asking her for brutal honesty.

Santana chuckled, “Brittany said if I took your virginity, you’d love me forever,” Her tone said, she thought that was a load of crap.

_I do love you._

“So, what you’re saying is…” Finn made a joke of it, though he kind of meant it, “you wanted to go out with me, because I had wowed you with what a stud I am,” He smiled afterwards, had he been able to, he may have punctuated his words with a poke to her ribs.

Santana laughed hard, but tried to stifle how ridiculous she thought that was, “You had no clues at all,” as if she thought it were just obvious.

_Ouch._

_One more thing I suck at!_

_I need to get out of here!_

Finn looked at the door.

Santana confessed, “Honestly, I think it backfired.”

_Wait, what?_

_Is she saying what I think she’s saying? Having sex with me made Santana love me forever?_

Finn didn’t think that could be right, but he wanted to be sure, “I don’t understand…”

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))SANTANA POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

_Just tell him._

_Do it!_ She admonished herself.

What she wanted to say was, _Finn,_ _you were the first guy who… the only guy actually… who has ever asked me if I was okay… during sex._

But then she chickened out, “You didn’t seem to care about me, _after_.”

“You know I do,” Finn corrected her, “I told you as much during Lady Music Week.” He smiled, “You’re awesome,” He repeated his words from a year ago.

But what she really wanted to say was _, You’re the only guy I still feel that way about, even now. You’re the sweetest guy I know, Finn. I just wish you could see that._

But then there was the fear. Whenever Santana Lopez went to let her guard down, show her weakness, some self-preservation instinct would stop her. _Can you trust him not to hurt you?_ And she’d freeze up.

They could hear the music from inside now. Sam was playing guitar and Brittany was singing back up, it was ‘Shelter from the storm.’

“Bob Dylan?” Santana was surprised, “Mr Schue, who knew?” Santana stepped in to him, gesturing that she wanted to slow dance. He could smell her perfume. And Finn obliged, putting a hand around her waist, and taking her hand in his.

She was right up against him now, letting his warmth envelope her. She put a hand on his shoulder, and rested her chin on the other side. It was clearly not what he was expecting, but he seemed to revel in the closeness of it.

He heard Sam sing, _‘Come in she said I’ll give you shelter from the storm’_

“Mr Schue told me why this song,” Finn informed her, “he said it reminded him of Emma before they ever dated, because he has always gone to her for advice and she always helped him,” Finn explained, “but one of their early dates they were going to watch a movie, some Bruckheimer action thing, anyway, when Mr Schue went to put it on, ‘Shelter from the Storm’ was playing on some show when he turned on the TV, and Miss P said she liked the song, so Mr Schue asked her to dance to it.”

“That’s sweet,” Was all Santana murmured in his ear.

She just swayed in time to the music not really waltzing, since Finn wasn’t so good at it anyway. She held him tighter against her, their chests were right up against one another now, and she could feel the heat of his body.

“A taco addict, who had one too many… liposuctions?” Finn reminded her of all her insults towards him when the New Directions were facing off with the Trouble Tones.

Santana moved to stare into his eyes again, looking sheepish, “You know I didn’t mean that, I was just mad.”

He clearly wanted to understand, “Why were you so mad?”

_Mr Schue had made us the Rachel Berry singing group. But you’d always been the force that keeps the Glee Club together, Finn, but you’d failed me and Mercedes, repeatedly._

But what she said was, “Because life is unfair,” Santana shrugged, “Or because I’m a bitch, pick whatever answer makes you feel better.”

Finn insisted, “It just seemed like you were really attacking me, personally.” He explained, “Attacking Rachel would’ve made more sense, but why were you so upset at me after you left New Directions?” He really seemed to want the answer.

Santana stopped to think.

It was obviously still bothering him, “Was it because I called Brittany an ‘idiot’?” Finnonce asked.

Santana shook her head, “No, I mean she forgave you pretty quickly, and frankly that’s what made her join the Trouble Tones, which was what I wanted,” Santana freely admitted, “It wasn’t really about Glee Club.”

That appeared to confuse him, “If it wasn’t about Glee Club, then what was it about?”

“Well sort of,” Santana was struggling to speak, with was an unusual shade on her, “You all knew the truth about me, so when I dumped you guys for Shelby’s group, I knew you’d all be pissed, so I was extra stressed that my secret was going to get out.”

Finn nodded, that did make sense. “But you seemed so pissed at me, _specifically_.” He kept insisting.

 _Oh God! I really want to tell you the truth, but it just feels like bearing my soul_. Santana became awkward, _just do it! You know you can trust Finn._

Santana let all the emotions play out over her face, while she warred with herself.

_I felt bad for leaving, so I pointed out that you also hate being second fiddle to Blaine to make you understand how I felt always being in the background. And then I advised Rachel to wait rather than have sex with you. I said it was because you’re terrible in bed, but really, I liked being the only girl you’d had sex with, it meant I had a special place in your life, and it could still be real between us. And when that didn’t work, I tried to make you feel insecure about your body and your relationship with Rachel so you might not want to._

_When I say it all like that, I’m a really big bitch!_

She finally spoke the words she’d been dreading with a tinge of sadness, “If only you had wanted me back, I could still appear to be straight.”

_It wouldn’t have mattered that I constantly thought about women or that you were the only guy I had any sexy feelings towards, if you’d have me, no one would know a thing, and I would have been fine, everything would have been easier._

She watched it play out on his face. He was slow to comprehend her meaning, but he got there.

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_What?! She **is** saying she still had feelings for me in Senior Year?_

That seemed crazy. _Then why insult the shit out of me?_ When Finn was at his worst, even now, Santana’s burn about him riding on Rachel’s coattails for the rest of his life, still stung.

Santana sounded irritated, “I _honestly_ don’t understand how you can love Rachel, but I never doubt that you do.”

“So, you were jealous?” Finn said casually, not wanting a confrontation, “Weren’t you and Britt all… happily ever after by then?”

“What do you want from me, Finn?” Santana finally snapped, “I’m a bitch! Other people’s happiness pisses me off!”

 _That’s a cop out, Santana. Your attacks always mean something._ He’d never even considered that was the reason. _Does she still have feelings for me even now?_ He wondered, but didn’t dare ask.

Santana was being honest, he wasn’t going to back her into a corner. He’d made his own mistakes.

“I am really sorry I outed you,” Finn apologized.

Santana tensed up at the mention of it.

Finn said what he’d wanted to say for a long time now, “I was pissed at you, and it was in the moment, but I knew what I was doing…”

He could feel her pull away.

He tried to explain, rushing, knowing she might bolt at any moment, “I really didn’t get it at the time, why it was so bad,” Finn admitted, “I figured everyone already knew, and you’d come to thank me one day.”

Santana was still tense, “You thought I would thank you,” Her voice was icy. But she didn’t flee the scene, she stayed to listen to his apology.

“But I was wrong,” Finn knew he wasn’t that ignorant guy anymore, “I get now that when people are hiding, it’s not that they are just afraid needlessly, their loved ones have made them feel like… they can’t be open.”

Santana nodded, but remained silent.

Finn continued to barrage her with his guilt-ridden words, “I could have ruined your life. I mean, some kids get sent to those ‘straighten out camps’, some… their parents kick them out. I didn’t know what situation you had at home,” He hoped she could sense how sincerely sorry he was.

She nodded sadly to the truth of those words, it brought him back to those ‘it gets better’ videos.

He kept filling up her silence, “And when you’re still in high school, you’re so dependent on family.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away, as if pretending she wasn’t getting emotional. Santana would swear dust blew into her eye before she’d admit to crying.

“I’m really sorry, _deeply_ sorry, Santana,” Finn conveyed his regret, staring into her eyes, “I love you, and I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to you.”

He pulled her into a bear hug, and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t meet any resistance. He felt her reciprocate, squeezing him back.

After a long time, he pulled back so he could watch her reaction as he said what he’d wanted to say to her for over a year now, “And I’m sorry about your Abuela.”

“I know you are,” Santana said, she was silent a long time, they were still embraced, “I just wish…” She huffed hopelessly, rather than finish her sentence, before shaking her head.

“One day,” He tried to be optimistic, cupping her cheeks so that she was staring right into his eyes so she could feel how much he meant every word he said to her.

But Santana pulled away sharply, “You’re still freaking me out with all the eye contact,” She made light of it all, “It was bad enough in that motel room, I finally let you be on top, and you get right up in my face, and tell me you think I’m beautiful…”

“I meant that,” He cut her off, remembering that part fondly.

“Then after you outed me, you get right up in my face with your Cyndi Lauper…” Santana was only faux annoyed recalling it now. “And now you’re right up in my grill again!”

Finn joked, “Am I making you cry?”

Santana ignored him, “I can’t take this shit, Finn!”

Santana pushed him away from her and started to go back inside.

“Santana,” Finn called back to her.

He stopped her in her tracks.

Finn spoke to her back, “It’s okay to feel things, you don’t have to push them away.”

Instead of leaving, Santana took a few steps until she was right at the edge looking out at the stars.

_You don’t have to push me away just because you like me._

Maybe it was because Finn was only staring at her back, or because they were alone or he felt safe, but he let go, “I kissed Miss Pilsbury,” He suddenly confessed. “She was freaking out and I was just trying to calm her down.”

Santana turned to look at him, but she didn’t react as if shocked or anything, which helped.

Finn couldn’t contain the sense of panic he felt, “Like a week ago, which I guess, only succeeded in her freaking out even more now…”

“And now you think _this_ is your fault,” Santana’s face conveyed that she could see how it all made sense. 

Finn kept speaking a mile a minute, “Then Mr Schue came back, and she didn’t tell him, and now she hates me for making her lie to him…”

Santana asked him a very pointed question, “Did you let her know you were going to tell Mr Schue?”

“I suggested it, but she said ‘no’, so I agreed to that,” Finn explained.

“That’s good,” Santana agreed.

“How is that good?” Finn questioned, his heart was beating so hard now, and he just kind of exploded. “I just feel like the worst person alive!”

Santana came back to him and held out her hands. But, he didn’t deserve kindness.

“And I just _know_ I’m the reason for her running off,” He added, “Mr Schue is gonna hate me forever.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Santana put a comforting hand on his arm.

“Why else?”

“There could be a million reasons,” Santana explicated.

She was so calm about it all, which actually did make him feel a tiny bit better.

“Finn, Brutal Honest Bitch, here,” She reminded him confidently, “I’d tell you if I thought this was your fault,” she sounded sincere, “Miss P has a whole heap of crazy behaviors, big events where she’s the center of attention… it might have nothing to do with you.”

Finn felt sick, “Do you think I should tell Mr Schue? Just come clean, before she tells him?”   
She was adamant, “Hell to the _no_!” She became animated, talking with her hands, “Their relationship is for them to sort out, stay out of it, and say nothing.”

“But I just feel so bad,” He admitted.

“I know you do,” Santana was surprisingly comforting, pulling him into a hug.

Finn just felt so heavy, like he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. Could she hold him if his legs were to simply give way?

_I’m so tired._

Before Finn even knew what was happening, he felt Santana’s hand behind his head, as she dragged him down to her lips. She was warm, and he could taste the gin, and her lipstick. She only used her lips to suck on his lips, but she was opening her mouth to him. Finn was too dazed to do anything. He just let her. Then he remembered how nice this felt. Finn hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since he’d broken up with Rachel eight months ago, until last week, and that was a peck. He hadn’t felt able to try again yet. Finn closed his eyes and tried to just feel. Enjoy the soft, warm, contact of her connecting to him. The whiff of her floral shampoo. The silkiness of her hair, to stop thinking and just sense the world. He joined in, he tasted and he touched.

Santana finally pulled back, opening her eyes, to gauge his reaction. Finn was still for a few seconds.

_I just want to feel different._

Then Finn let go, of all the voices in his head telling him he was worthless. He gripped her waist and pulled her against him hard. He brought his lips to hers again, and just kind of let loose, he was all over her, his tongue swirled inside her mouth, and he felt her teasing him in response. And Santana wasn’t put off by it at all.

It felt different. Santana was nothing like Rachel, she was all sensual and sexual, where Rachel was sweet and romantic. Santana was sucking on his tongue and tickling him. He felt hot and bothered, and could feel his heart pounding in his throat, among other places.

_If nothing changes, nothing changes._

“This is a motel,” Finn whispered into Santana’s ear, “We could get a room upstairs.”

_This is crazy!_

_Santana’s into women._

_But she said she still has feelings for me._

Santana’s eyes flickered wide for a moment. As if she was surprised at his offer.

Her silence freaked him out, _I’ve blown it,_ he thought before immediately going into damage control mode, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not what you go for anymore,” He tried to cover his embarrassment.

He turned to go back inside. Berating himself in his head, _You’re such an idiot! And such a desperate loser that you are throwing yourself at an out and proud lesbian!_

_Then, why did she kiss me?_

But she tugged on his arm, “No, let’s do it.”

He felt a sinking feeling, like he couldn’t quite believe it, “Really? Are you sure?”

She just nodded, the way she had when she hugged him after he’d sung her ‘Girls just want to have fun.’

And then Finn allowed himself to feel just the slightest bit happy. He hadn’t felt joy pretty much since he’d broken up with Rachel. Directing Grease had its moments, but this was something else.

_I need you._

Finn kissed her again, just a peck, “Wait five minutes, I’ll text you with the room number.”

She nodded, “Okay.”


	2. Dirty Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut- you've been warned!

Finn didn’t want to jinx it. He was getting so excited, but he maintained a gnawing doubt that Santana would sober up or just come to her senses, and not show up.

He slipped back into the main hall. Rachel was slow dancing with Mr Plastic to ‘Just can’t get enough’ being sung by Kurt and Blaine. She looked happy and content. She was heavily made-up. Her style had become more fashionable since going to New York and her eyes were plastered with eyeliner to look smokey or something. Her hair was extra silky smooth too. Mr Schue was nowhere to be seen. Quinn was at the bar. Brittany and Sam were all over each other on the dancefloor.

He tried not to get caught up in all the old friends there. He subtly excused himself. He went to the main reception and was glad it wasn’t hard to get a room. He texted Santana and went up and stripped off his suit jacket and bowtie, and then he sat on the bed. After a couple of minutes, he got up and started pacing. Then he went to the minibar.

_I really shouldn’t drink any more._

_Do I even have a condom?_

He waited for what felt like forever, until he heard a quiet knock. He opened the door and she leaned against the frame and smiled seductively at him.

Finn told her straight, “I was worried you’d bail.”

Finn hadn’t been in the dark, but he’d only put the bedside light on. Santana turned the room light on, and very slowly put the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the outside door handle. Finn watched on feeling jittery right down to his stomach in anticipation. Finn went and sat on the end of the bed and just watched her.

She had a sexy way about her, even just walking, Santana caught your attention without even trying, without shaking anything all that much, it was just this intrinsic quality of her.

Finn patted the bedspread next to him. She smiled wryly, and came over, but she didn’t sit, she stood in front of him.

She plugged her iPod into the wall and scanned for music, putting it on speaker setting.

“What song are you after?” Finn enquired.

“Just a little _Dirty Dancing_ ,” Santana said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

A beat started.

_‘When your baby,_

_leaves you all alone,’_

Santana started to sway her hips in time to the beat. _Dirty Dancing_ tended to make Finn think of Rachel, because she was like Baby, the naïve Jewish girl, who didn’t know about men, or how to be sexy…

_‘And nobody calls you on the phone_

_Don’t cha feel like crying’_

Santana snapped him out of it. She let her own arms glide over her hips and stomach sensually touching herself. It wasn’t quite a lap dance, but it was very arousing, and Finn could feel the blood draining away from his face. And he watched her closely, anticipating when it would be time for him to be tracing her curves with his hands.

The lead vocal was Solomon Burke’s soulful baritone, but Finn did his best to sing along with it.

_‘Don’t cha feel like crying_

_Well here I am, my honey, c’mon baby, cry to me’_

Santana reached her hand out and Finn jumped up. She let him grind dance with her. She positioned her body in front of him, and so her ass was rubbing right up into his groin. She rolled her hips in big circles, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned forward and begun to kiss her neck. One of her hands lay flat against his cheek, caressing him.

Finn was shaking a little, but he also felt bold, he ventured a hand down the curve of her hip, down her outer thigh with his fingers splayed. Feeling her warmth and the satin. He was getting hot and bothered.

Santana suddenly twirled, so she was facing him. Her knee pushed in between his thighs, and with bent legs they were in such close proximity. Her rubbing up against him, had him feeling overly confined in his dress pants.

_‘When you’re all alone,_

_In your lonely room’_

Santana started to play out the scene in the movie, she steadied herself by holding his shoulders now that they were facing one another, and Finn braced her as she did a backbend dip.

_‘And there’s nothing but the smell of her perfume’_

There’s a lot of trust involved in partner dancing, he observed. Finn felt nervous, but he steadied himself by stepping forward, so his leg was between hers, and he held Santana’s waist firmly. She smiled at him deviously, as she laid back into another backbend dip rolling from one side to the other. She was so flexible her hair grazed the carpet.

_‘Don’t cha feel like crying_

_Don’t cha feel like crying’_

Finn was proud he didn’t drop her. And Santana still had that sexy look in her eyes, before she began to unbutton his shirt.

 _Oh no!_ Finn felt his nerves getting the better of him.

“It’s fine, Finn,” She was actually being encouraging, and she slipped her nimble fingers under his shirt to help pull it out of his suit pants. Santana had her nails kept short and painted dark red. She kept undressing him as she planted her lips on his neck. His white shirt floated to the floor.

The song continued,

_‘C’mon baby, c’mon, cry to me’_

And now Santana was peeling his singlet up and over his head.

 _It’s gonna be okay,_ Finn tried to give himself a pep talk. But he felt exposed, and she could tell he felt exposed.

Santana smiled sweetly at him to help him feel reassured.

_‘Nothing can be sadder than a glass of wine alone_

_Loneliness, loneliness, it’s just a waste of your time, oh yeah’_

Copying Jennifer Grey, Santana lifted her left leg up to Finn’s waist, bent at the knee pushing her crotch up to his. He felt an incredible exchange of heat. Finn remembered how Patrick Swayze held her leg up by gripping the back of her thigh, so he did the same. Santana leaned back into a sideways dip slowly and in full control.

_‘But you don't ever you don't ever have to walk alone_

_You see, Come take my hand, and baby, won't you walk with me? whoa yeah’_

Santana’s expression was sultry, she seductively moved, achingly slowly around behind him, with her fingers gliding over his bare back feeling like electricity. Finn swallowed hard.

_‘When you’re waiting for a voice to come’_

And then he felt her hand casually trace the curve of his butt, giving his cheek a little squeeze. He flinched, then felt like a complete novice. 

_‘In the night there is no one_

_Don’t cha feel like crying_

_Don’t cha feel like crying’_

Santana lifted her arms up just as Baby had in the movie, but Finn couldn’t take her top off, because she was wearing a figure-hugging strapless dress with a big split up the side, so Finn just ran his hands over and up her back and along her outstretched arms to her finger tips. Finn didn’t usually do so much slow touching first, all this building was really getting him going.

Santana came back around to face him. For all the dance moves, the sexiest thing Santana was doing was actually how she was looking at him, like she was dying to do all manner of dirty things to him. Finn felt a yearning so deep, to be inside her.

_‘Don't you feel like cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cry, cry to me, cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-crying? cry to me  
Don't you feel like cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cry, cry to me, cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-cr-crying?’_

Finn couldn’t take any more. He captured her lips again. Like he was actually trying to mould them into one, being all over her wasn’t enough, not close enough or deep enough. And pulled the dress up to past Santana’s hips, it didn’t stretch so that was the only way he could get to her panties. She obliged and held his neck and wrapped her thighs around his waist as he walked them over to the bed.

He laid her down in the middle, and peeled those red lacey panties off her beautiful athletic legs and took a long sniff, just to get his juices flowing.

He ran his hands up and down her legs, and Santana had a self-satisfied look on her face as she slowly parted her thighs for him. Finn didn’t feel confident with this particular aspect of lovemaking, since Rachel found it unseemly. And he hadn’t done it with Santana the first time, she had taken him in her mouth at the beginning. 

He and Rachel tended to make love in the dark, and undress themselves and hop under the covers and just sort of grope around. He didn’t usually look right at her… _lady parts_.

There were the lips, that met at the top, with the little fold thing, and the hair above that, but it was what was inside that he wanted a better look at. He ran his fingers lightly over the inside of her thigh, and he felt her quiver slightly at his delicate touch.

Finn felt really nervous.

_If I do a bad job, she’ll probably tell me, or better yet, she’ll commentate what I’m doing wrong while I’m doing it._

_This is too much pressure._

Finn decided to go for it. He kissed the top of her opening, and began to trace the outside of her lower lips. Santana laid quietly for now, with her knees bent. He pressed a finger inside her. She felt warm and wet, and he liked the taste of her. He began to lap at her opening.

He heard the faintest of stifled cries escape her beautiful full lips.

That encouraged him on. His finger resumed its exploration inside her opening by adding a second finger and he kept kissing and flicking and stroking her sensitive areas.

He was enjoying glancing up at her face, pulled taut, her eyes closed. And at her stomach muscles tensing through the satin, and releasing ever so slightly when Santana reacted to his touch.

And her breathing was the real indicator, she let him know when he had found the right spot.

He kept at it for a while, he was using three fingers now but he didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Three fingers wasn’t as big as his dick, but Finn didn’t see how to add a forth. When he was enjoying himself, he would build and build and then release. But, while she was obviously turned on, he didn’t think she was getting closer to climax.

He persisted a while longer before feeling mortified.

_One more thing I’m failing at._

_Well, she’s a lesbian, why did I think this was a good idea?_

Finn was about to stop, and run into the bathroom and just stay there until Santana left, and never mention this again, and pray she didn’t either. And never make eye contact with her again. And maybe he’d move to an even smaller town.

Santana seemed to sense his distress, she opened her eyes now, she reached her own hand down and displaced his. _I’m doing this so badly, she doesn’t want me to touch her anymore._ Finn stepped back.

Santana’s fingers sort of lifted up that brown fold at her opening, and then she began to rub the underside, really slow and gently with her finger tips.

Then she brought her other hand in and slipped only one finger inside.

_Is she going to let me watch her masturbate?_

Finn sat at attention, mesmerized. He realized pretty quickly, he’d been using way too much pressure at the top of her opening, and he’d been kind of in the wrong spot, and that, he didn’t need to fill up her hole with his fingers either.

He got closer, and she took his hand and placed it where her own had been, and he tried to emulate what she’d been doing as best he could.

And pretty soon he saw her body come alive. She encouraged him on, when he touched her in the right spot she let him hear how much it excited her. Finn slowly began to calm down and just focus on her and watching her for little tremors, and moans. Santana’s breathing became raspy, and her stomach muscles kept clenching taut, then releasing only to tense again, as her climax built. Santana gripped handfuls of the white damask bedspread, as if she was trying so hard to hold on. She let him know vocally how much she was enjoying what he was doing. Santana was loud. 

Instead of using his hand, right at the end, Finn put his mouth back on her clit and tried to make those gentle circles with his tongue. Between that, and the way he was tickling her inside, Santana began to moan.

He began to thrust harder with his finger inside.

“No! Don’t change a thing,” She instructed, breathlessly.

Finn complied. Her leg even began to shake. Her breath was strangled. Only a few more come-hither motions with his finger and her whole body seized and he felt her clamp down on his finger inside. And Santana cried out, as her whole body crunched forward, and her legs snapped together as he sent her over the edge. Finn’s head got squished by her thighs for a long second. And then his fingers were covered in fluid.

Finn was a little startled by that. _I don’t think I’ve ever made Rachel do that._ “Did you just… cum?”  
Santana flopped back, and lay completely still except for her sucking breaths.

“Yep.”

“Awesome!”

Finn licked his fingers because he was genuinely curious whether it would taste different. Mostly, like more of the same, but there was a wet patch on the bed, and he couldn’t help but grin because he was so damn proud of himself. Looking at Santana lying spent, having just orgasmed from Finn’s skills made him so hard.

“Come here,” She gestured.

He crawled up next to her, and she began kissing him passionately.

Finn was used to having to rinse his mouth first, Rachel was utterly grossed out if Finn had been downtown then tried to kiss her. Santana was the opposite. She loved it.

Finn rolled onto his side to watch her. Then he realized she was still in the dress.

Last time, in that dingy motel room, Santana had been wearing a padded lilac teddy, pre-breast implants. Finn could recall that image whenever he closed his eyes, he’d recalled it more than he cared to admit to. That night, when Finn had tried to pull her negligée down so he could touch her tits, Santana had refused, slapping his hands away and pulling the straps back up. She had clearly been sensitive about how her breasts looked. She had only let him touch her through the material.

 _She’s going to let me see her boobs this time_. 

Finn just sort of reached out, and took her shoulder and hip and rolled Santana over onto her side facing away from him so he could get at the zip.

“I’m not doing _that!_ ” Santana warned him immediately, trying to push him off.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just wanted to…” Then he stopped, feeling like he’d done something wrong.

Santana got up and looked at him as if she was scared, just for a moment, then it melted into anger, “What the hell is wrong with you!” She demanded.

And then Finn really didn’t understand what had happened.

“…see your boobs this time,” Finn finished his sentence tentatively.

Her whole face changed, “Oh,” Relief crossed her features.

“What did you think?” He questioned her.

Santana shook her head and didn’t explain. She sat back on the end of the bed and held her hair out the way so he could get her out of her dress.

“We don’t have to… you know, with my… cock,” Finn was getting more flustered by the moment.

Santana didn’t say anything to that.

Finn crawled up behind her and enjoyed taking the zip down slowly, seeing her black satin strapless bra and her bare back. _Flawless_. She stepped out of it, and the dark red satin crumpled onto the floor. Her light brown ass was in such perfect shape. Santana was hotter than any model in _Penthouse_. Not that _that_ was his thing.

Finn had had no idea how to unhook a bra that first time with Rachel, he’d embarrassed himself to the point where he needed to turn the lights back on and watch her do it. 

In the present, Santana’s bra puddled on top of the dress. He pulled her by the shoulders to lie flat again.

_Awesome!_

It was surprising she was letting him, because if Finn recalled anything from their fling, it was that Santana Lopez liked to be in control. 

Finn put his face into the cleft between her perfect tits. He stared at her small, dark nipples. He squeezed one warm, soft, jelly filled light brown sack in his fingers, and took the other nipple into his mouth. He enjoyed her, savoring every sight and feeling. One breast, then the other, petting her the whole time. Feeling like he just wanted to go to sleep nestled in her breasts. Like in a field of daisies or something. He felt Santana caressing his head with her hands, scrunching handfuls of his hair between her fingers, encouraging him on. He could hear her breath catching in her throat. Because the lights were on he could see the thin red line, the scars under each breast, where she’d had the implants inserted. _She paid a horrible price to look this good._

Finn kissed his way down her flat stomach, and tickled her side to see if he could make Santana squeal or laugh. But, she wasn’t ticklish. Finn looked back up at her face, Santana had remained lying on the bed, but she watched him closely with that, ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ look on her face.

Finn stood for a moment and watched her as he unbuttoned his suit pants. She smirked at him deviously, which gave him the encouragement he needed. His pants dropped to his ankles revealing his tighty whities. Finn had forgotten he was wearing them, then he felt embarrassed that she was going to mock him for being thoroughly unsexy. But she didn’t.

“You are so cute,” Santana beamed, signaling a come hither motion with her hand. And an intense look on her face.

Finn couldn’t help but smile back at her. He peeled off his jockeys, and stood stark naked before her. She looked pleased. Finn got back on the bed next to her. They hadn’t really settled the question of what she was willing to do. Finn was thankfully saved from having to ask any more awkward things though, because Santana wrapped her fingers around his shaft and those beautiful lips swallowed his head.

_Awesome!_

He felt her tongue swirling on the tip of his dick, and Santana was sliding her fingers up and down the rest of his length in the opposite direction to her tongue, using more pressure at the base. And she was using her lips to suck down over his head and slowly glide over the ridge to the neck then back up again. _Painfully_ slowly.

_Wow!_

They hadn’t gotten this far last time before Finn had to ask her to stop. Because he’d really wanted to put his dick in her snatch and Santana had been making him so hot, he was going to spill the gravy before he got there.

Santana just knew so much about all of this stuff, and she was so confident, even now. Her other hand gently grazed his sack, which made Finn extra excited to be stimulated in so many places at once. Santana sucked with more force and slowly took more of his length into her throat.

_Mail man, mail man, MAIL MAN!_

Her hand from his shaft was now somehow on his butt as he felt her give his cheek a healthy squeeze. The shock of it almost made him jizz.

_Mail man, mail man, MAIL MAN!_

“I’m gonna cum,” He felt it only right to warn her.

Santana released him immediately. Finn held himself now, and expected to finish himself off, but Santana laid back, naked on the bed spreading her legs in full view of him, and gave him a look that said he could do more.

“Are you sure?” He asked her, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

Santana nodded. She really didn’t seem to like talking during.

Finn moved until he lay between her spread legs, covering her lithe body with his own, and just let his cock rub up against her sopping wet opening. And Santana let him.

He hooked his arms under her armpits, bringing their faces inches apart. Santana looked right at him, and smiled kindly, “It’s okay, Finn,” Was all she said, to encourage him on.

He pushed inside her.

_I’d forgotten how good this feels._

He watched her face as she felt him enter her. She looked to be enjoying it, not scared or in pain, which relieved some of his worry.

“Condom,” She reminded him.

Finn pulled out and fumbled around on the bedside table, suiting himself up with the lone condom he’d found in his wallet that was who knows how old.

He couldn’t help feeling like the other shoe was about to drop. That she’d want to stop.

“Are you sure?” He asked her again.

Santana replied, “I’m fine, Finn, stop worrying.” 

Finn laid against Santana with his body, and he felt her knees bend and encircle him, and he pressed inside again. Finn felt her hands on his ass a she thrust up to meet him.

_Awesome!_

He drew back, before slowly pushing inside again farther. Finn kissed Santana’s beautiful big lips, he cupped her cheeks and stared into her face, but her beautiful dark eyes were closed, so he settled for looking at her thick long lashes.

By the third stroke he was in as far as her body would take him. She was throbbing around him, and he felt he would just melt into her. Finn liked feeling immersed in her. He’d sworn after the last time with Santana he’d never do this again with anyone he didn’t love. But Finn did love her now, the way you love an old friend, someone you’ve helped, who’s been through hell and back by your side, and you see them for who they are. 

This was solice.

Finn had found a way he liked with Rachel, where he’d slowly rock his hips, not really thrusting, the trick was to basically tracing the front wall of her vagina with the head of his dick, there was some pleasure spot for girls there or something. You didn’t need to press deep. Anyway, the thing he’d worked out himself was that the more he made her body like what he was doing, the more her body would please his body.

So that’s what he did here. Santana was writhing beneath him, trying to thrust more forcefully. But he didn’t indulge her. Last time, Santana’s way had been to straddle him and ride him so hard and fast he came despite himself, then she kissed and touched until he could go again, and his body kept responding to her, then it was more animalistic thrusting in a different position.

Finn wanted to show Santana how good it could feel this way. The trick was to do it quite gently. And Santana didn’t really have a tender button. She was expecting pounding and seemed annoyed. She was too hot to handle. She began to thrust up, and was trying to make him ride her rougher using her hands on his ass to control his motions. Finn literally pinned her hips with his hands after she didn’t take the hint.

She stared back at him now, but he shook his head slightly, and resumed kissing her mouth.

He kept at it, the slow gentle tracing, finding that bit inside her that felt spongey, that’s what he wanted to keep stimulating. Santana stopped trying to dictate their motions, and let him do as he would. He heard a sound of pleasure escape her lips. He kept at it, trying to cause her to make that sound again. Her breathing got hoarse again.

She gripped his back, and dug her nails in.

_So hot!_

He could feel her body respond to his gentle tracing of her g spot, and he just kept going, feeling that pressure build, within her, as she got hotter and wetter, and her squeezing of him more rhythmic. And he felt her muscles beginning to tense, which was matching his own build up. Far from lying still though, Santana was gently rocking to meet his motions now. He didn’t have much stamina, it was a wonder he hadn’t cum yet, it had been so long.

_Mail man, mail man, MAIL MAN._

He felt her getting close. Her cries of pleasure, kept him at it, achingly slow. _Almost, almost_.

Santana slipped a hand down between her legs to play with her clit, and he knew why he couldn’t get her over the edge. He displaced her fingers with his own. He rubbed her gently, as he kept on with that slow rocking motion. He had to hold himself up on one arm to do it though, and his toes, almost like a push up.

He had to fight to contain himself. He could feel that trickle pulling from the rest of his body start to pool in his groin. _Hold on._ Her breathing built up to the point of her holding her breath for long moments at a time, and he felt her leg begin to shake. _Almost._ Her stomach muscles did something too, a weird sort of tensing, he could feel it. _Almost_ , he kept at both the tiny gentle circles on her clit and the cock tracing of her g spot.

Their faces were nearly level, he was still so much bigger than her. He stared into her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes, and smiled, Santana didn’t look away this time either, he didn’t have a hand free so he couldn’t cup her cheeks to hold her focus, like he had done. To Finn’s amazement, it was Santana who held his face in her hands now, so their eyes were locked mere inches apart. There was a bond of trust that ran so deep pass between them in that intense moment. He didn't know what it was or how to describe it, he just felt it.

Santana’s lips pulled into a pout, her whole body clenched, and her vajayjay closed on his cock so strongly that she wrung his orgasm from him. Her body milked the cum out of him, with a spasm so intense he thought his dick would explode, but in a good way. He heard her cry out in his ear, and Finn grunted as his own release that shot out of him in waves.

He collapsed onto her completely spent.

 _Wow!_ Finn felt light headed. _I’ve never…_

Santana was both breathless and speechless. They laid there, slowly catching their breath.

“Fuck me, Finn Hudson!” Santana exclaimed, putting her hands on her forehead, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Finn finally felt better about himself.

“Thank you,” He whispered into her ear, “I really needed this.” He kissed her cheek, they were both sweaty and he had to swipe her hair out of the way to do it.

“You’re a great guy, Finn,” Santana replied, “Don’t doubt yourself.”

They laid in each other’s arms like that. He could feel her hands gently gliding up and down his back.

Finn eventually started to feel cold from his sweat. He rolled off her and onto his back, just staring up at the ceiling. More to his shock Santana didn’t leave, she laid her head on his chest and began to delicately run her fingers through his chest hair.

Finn noticed the music was still playing quietly in the background. The last song finished and the next one from the soundtrack began. It had a grinding percussion as well.

_‘Stay  
Just a little bit longer  
Please, please, please, please, please  
Tell me you're going to_

_Now, your daddy don't mind  
And your mommy don't mind  
If we have another dance  
Just one more  
One more time’_

“I expect $100 if you want to jiggle one of my man boobs,” He joked.

She chuckled, and play slapped his face.

“You owe me,” He reminded her, “you didn’t even give me $1 at the kissing booth, and you used tongue… _and_ gave me mono!”

Santana smiled slyly, still unapologetic, “Well, you should’ve gone out with me when you broke up with Rachel.”

He just shook his head, pretending to still be annoyed.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, and Finn reflected upon how different this was to the last time. Last time, they hadn’t even gotten naked, and right afterwards they were both so awkward. All he thought then, was that Santana was Quinn’s hot and bitchy bestie, he didn’t have a lot of time for. And that and Puck had said she was a good lay. Finn figured Puck would know, because he’d had a lot of girls. Even still, Puck kept coming back for more where Santana was concerned. Finn knew she had a rep among the football guys for being easy, but that wasn’t something he paid much attention to. But that was before he really saw her, for the person she truly is. He understood how she had disconnected sex from emotion, given how she was denying her true feelings for women. Even though Santana was still mean sometimes, he understood her meanness now. She had a good heart, she was loyal and protected the hell out of those she loved.

“I’m starving,” Santana spoke suddenly, sitting up, she lifted a sneaky eyebrow, “I bet _this_ place has room service.”

Finn nodded, “Yeah, sounds good.”

They both ordered grilled cheese sandwiches. He had no idea last time around, since he barely knew her, but her sudden burger craving was an anomaly, and here she was again. Because the rest of the time, she never seemed to eat any solid meals.

“So, is junk food like a post-sex ritual for you?” He asked in a joking way, so he wouldn’t make her self-conscious.

“Something like that,” She shrugged and didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t pry. She was going to eat a meal with him, so he was happy.

Finn got up, put his shirt back on and his undies, and went into the bathroom, disposed of the rubber. He liked that he smelled like sex, he didn’t even want to shower, he wanted to have her scent all over him. He looked at himself in the mirror. Last time after he and Santana did the deed, when Finn looked in the mirror afterwards in that cheap motel bathroom, he felt disgusted with himself. He knew he’d thrown away something precious, without really thinking about it first. He’d been expecting to feel different, profound, more adult or something. And it had been disorienting to feel the same, but somehow dirty.

Now, he felt better than he had in months. Finn looked into the bathroom mirror.

_I’m back._

He did a finger gun motion at his reflection.

Then that little voice in his head, reared its ugly head.

_She was just being kind._

_She’s a lesbian and she can’t love you._

_What are you doing!_

_This isn’t real._

When he came out Santana was under the covers. And the music was still playing, it was up to _Will you still love me tomorrow?_

_How apt._

Finn snuck in beside her, and then pushed his luck to see if she’d let him hug her. She wouldn’t, she was back to being awkward, Santana started pacing the room, like she was getting stressed out.

“You’re so beautiful,” Finn said without thinking.

Santana looked at him nervously. Rather than flattered.

_Stop scaring her away!_

_You know she can’t handle emotional stuff!_

Santana disappeared into the bathroom, and he heard the shower turn on. She took a fair while, and by the time she came out, one towel wrapped across her body, the other in her hair, the food arrived.

And Santana ate like she really hadn’t eaten all week. Finn was quiet but he couldn’t help but watch her, he was having all these new feelings, but he couldn’t really enjoy it because of the gnawing doubt that had reared its head when he gazed upon his reflection.

Finn tried to find the courage to ask the question he really wanted the answer to. Finn was embarrassed, “I didn’t think you,” He feet sheepish, “you know, you did _this_ anymore... with guys.”

“I don’t,” Santana replied plainly without a hint of irony.

“Then what was this?” Finn was now dreading the answer. _Please._

“I told you,” Santana explained, “I still had feelings for you after the last time.”

“So, you’re like not 100% gay?” Finn sounded as awkward as he felt. _Please._

An uncomfortable silence hung in the room.

“Do you have a toothbrush?” She asked, using distraction that wasn’t even remotely subtle.

“There’s a new one in the drawer.”

Santana went in the bathroom for about 15 minutes. When she came out, Finn had turned the lights off except for the lamp next to him. He had laid down, pretending to sleep, to avoid freaking her out any further. He wanted them to sleep in this bed together tonight.

He realized he really didn’t want her to leave. Santana climbed in on the opposite side. Finn kept sneaking closer, and closer, while still pretending to be sleeping. Until he was right up against Santana’s back as they both laid on their sides. When it was obvious what he’d been doing, he put a protective arm around her waist. Santana didn’t stop him, she seemed fine with it to his surprise.

“Thank you, Santana,” He said quietly.

He kissed her cheek.

The silence was deafening. He wanted her to say something in return, but he knew this was really hard for her. But he needed it, some verbal affirmation, affection, _come on, Santana, just throw me a bone._

About 10 minutes later she finally said, almost shaking Finn from his haze, “I don’t want you to be sad.” She didn’t answer his other question, so he let it drop.

Finn couldn’t help but smile. He tugged her closer to him, and he had to finger comb her dark hair out of the way so he could kiss her neck some more. And then she turned her head ever so slightly to let him give her a proper goodnight kiss. She tasted minty.

Finn felt himself getting hard again, but he decided not to push his luck.

_Tomorrow._

Finn felt so content, for the first time in so long. _Maybe everything is going to be fine. Maybe, better than fine. Maybe, things are going to work out great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably obvious, but the songs in this chapter are;  
> Solomon Burke's 'Cry to me' from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack  
> 'Stay' by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs from the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack  
> And 'Will you still love me tomorrow' by Carole King from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.


	3. Smack down

Finn FUCKING Hudson had somehow managed to headfuck her AGAIN!

Last time, Santana thought she’d wow him with her sexual prowess. She’d made Finn cum so hard she thought he’d love her forever and forget all about Rachel ‘Diva’ Berry for good. But no, she’d fucked his brains out, he’d cum all over the place, and then turned around and said it was meaningless because he didn’t have feelings for her.

But somehow, with his pasty blob of a body, and his no freaking clues what he was doing, Finn ‘Mama’s Boy’ Hudson and his fucking… _sweetness_ had managed to melt her hard exterior. From Finn asking her if she was okay every few minutes to the way he’d wanted to stare into her eyes right at the end, somehow he was the one that had made _her_ want _him_.

Tonight, when Santana had seen Finn ready to leave the bar, looking like he didn’t care if he lived or died, Santana had planned to help him. And, she had planned to settle the score once and for all. She’d fuck him to help him out of his ‘I’m not over Rachel’ funk, while she’d get to put her feelings for him to bed. She had let him be on top, and had encouraged him when he got nervous. Santana was so sure it was just that Finn had the same qualities she liked in Brittany, a wholesomeness that said the world hadn’t managed to corrupt him, that drew her thoroughly jaded ass to that kind of innocence. But Finn was more on the planet than Britt so maybe the conversation would be better, but Santana was sure that the _plumbing_ was going to get in the way, and she’d be certain she didn’t really want him like that once they did the deed again.

_Oh, no! Finn FUCKING Hudson had somehow done it again._

She couldn’t stop thinking about him. And how much she’d enjoying being with him, and how much better this time was. Finn, despite being depressed, had fucked her like all he wanted was to get her off. And he had, _twice_! Like he was making love. He was so fundamentally unlike any other guy she’d ever met. And what a great guy he was, and now all she was thinking about was how she kind of wanted to fuck him again in the morning, and keep at it. 

_And what the fuck am I doing?_

_I live in New York._

_I like girls._

_What the fuck!_

_Fuck you, Finn!_

_No, don’t fuck him… FUCK!!!!_

This was supposed to make everything clearer, if anything she was more confused than ever.

So, Santana did what Santana does best, she fucking bolted, once he fell fast asleep.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Finn POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn reached for Santana when he woke, and was sad to find her side of the bed cold.

He was a bit disappointed. But, he wasn’t overly shocked.

 _This is her MO, she gets scared when she feels something_.

Then that critical voice in his head said _, or, she woke up and regretted everything, and never wants to see you again._

He really wanted to stop second guessing himself.

The more he thought about that, and all the stuff she’d said the night before that fitted that pattern of behavior, the more hopeful he began to feel about everything.

Finn was a patient guy. And he was starting to think Santana Lopez was worth waiting for.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Santana POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn sent her ten text messages that day. They said ‘thank you’, and that he was sorry he’d missed her leave. Was she going to be in Lima a few more days?

Six the day after that.

And three more on day 3. Those messages were more, ‘is everything okay?’ ‘Did you regret it afterwards?’ ‘Call me if you want to talk.’

She left Lima without responding to any of them. She couldn’t deal with Finn right now. She was glad to be back in New York, she wasn’t quite calling it home yet, but she hoped in time it would be.

Rachel gave her the silent treatment for an entire day, which was pretty noticeable with only the three of them home. Brody was out or something.

The next day Diva-from-Hell changed tactics, in a show of fake sweetness, “So, Santana, did you have a nice, chat with Finn at the reception?”

“Why yes I did,” She replied being saccharine herself, not to give the Hobbit any satisfaction.

“What did you talk about?” Berry was still trying to sound like she was just being friendly, but this was clearly an interrogation.

“Why we didn’t date in Junior Year,” Santana was deliberately nonchalant.

It had the desired effect on Rachel though. Whom was immediately affronted.

“Finn was dating _me_ in Junior Year,” The Dwarf reminded her sharply, getting her panties in a bunch.

“Until he wasn’t,” Santana said plainly.

Because even though it was over two years ago, and Santana liked girls, and Rachel had a new guy, she still felt threatened by Santana. They both knew it.

Rachel clearly remembered her game plan and went back to her fake nice voice, “I missed you later? Did you leave early?” Rachel kept trying to bring it back to where Santana had been the night of the reception.

_Barbara-in-training knows something._

“If you’ve got something to say, Berry, why don’t you just come out and say it,” Santana finally challenged her.

“Did you hook up with Finn?” Rachel to her credit actually was direct about it, before adding, “ _again_?” That last word clearly stung.

“Rachel, I’m not dating you,” Santana tried to sounded amused and unimpressed, “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“If you are going to live here, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you respect some basic decency,” Rachel tried to pretend her upset was about some rules of sisterhood, but it was really about Finn, “like not dating my ex while the break-up is still fresh.”

Kurt came out of the bathroom, still rubbing cream on his face.

“Rachel, this is a little cray-cray, you know Santana…” Kurt sort a polite euphemism, “doesn’t swing that way anymore.”

“Are you sure of that Kurt?” Rachel got huffy and self-righteous, “I think she still does on occasion.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Santana threw up her hands, and then got to her feet, “It’s none of your business who I do.”

“But Finn is my…”

“Your _ex_ ,” Santana pointed out, “By definition that means it’s over, so get over it!”

“Just answer the question!” Rachel’s voice cracked with emotion, “You know it’s tearing me up inside, and here you are with that knowing look on your face, just to torture me.”

“Not _everything_ , is about you, Rachel,” Santana put up her hand to signify she was done with this conversation.

Kurt just wanted everyone to get along, and couldn’t stand to see them fighting,

“Rachel, what’s gotten into you?” Kurt interrupted, his voice was extra high and squeaky, “Why on earth do you think anything happened between Santana and Finn?”

“Because I saw them talking at the bar,” Rachel snapped, “then they both went out on the balcony,” Rachel couldn’t contain her insecurity. 

Kurt was uncomfortable and tried to smooth things over, “Rachel, that’s nothing… they’re friends, they talked at a wedding reception.”

Santana stood quietly hoping he’d talk Rachel down and then she wouldn’t have to answer any direct questions.

“And then Finn excused himself,” Rachel said to Kurt but stared at Santana with a pure kind of hatred, “And then _she_ disappeared right after,” Rachel pointed an accusatory finger right at her, “I saw the whole thing!”

_Prima donna’s having a meltdown._

“Okay, that’s not proof, Nancy Drew!” Kurt tried to dismiss her fears.

“I just know it!” Rachel screamed, then lashed out at Santana, “Just admit it, _slut_! You don’t even care about him, you just did it to make me crazy because you’re jealous I’m more talented than you.”

Kurt was unimpressed, “Rachel!”

_Slut._

That particular word had been hurled at Santana a few times by people who were supposed to love her, so it never failed to make her see red.

Santana settled for sarcasm, “And once again, Rachel Berry makes _everything_ that occurs on planet earth _somehow_ about her,” Santana wound up for one of her epic verbal smack downs, “and that _ginormous_ talent she’s so sure she has,” Her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Santana was on a roll, “ _First_ , Brody isn’t half the guy Finn is, so I understand your buyer’s remorse, _second_ , you’re the one who felt the need to show everyone how much you’ve _made it_ in New York by _parading_ your new boy toy for all your high school friends, so you won’t appear to be the same Lima _Loser_ you’ve always been,” Santana pointed at Rachel now to punctuate her words, “because no matter how big you get, you’re still going to be the same selfish, spoiled, _drama queen_ you’ve always been, because you seem _incapable_ of learning from your mistakes.” She took a breath, her mockery continued, “To learn from your mistakes, you’d have to admit you aren’t _perfect!”_ Santana couldn’t help herself, “and we all know that you’ll never do that, _everything_ is someone else’s fault in your world, isn’t it.”

Berry’s ugly fucking face looked horrified, and her mouth fell open.

“Santana!” Kurt wanted her to stop.

She willfully ignored him, “It couldn’t just be that Finn and I have feelings for each other that has _zero_ to do with you. You make _everything_ about you to the point where you _actually_ think I must be fucking him for the _sole_ reason that I want to get to you,” Santana showed how amused she was by that assertion, “You really think you are _that_ important that every adult decision I make in my life is somehow about _you,_ or about _spiting_ you? Could you be _anymore_ narcissistic?”

Rachel found her voice, “So you really did sleep with Finn?” She sounded shocked.

Santana wasn’t nearly done, getting right up into Berry’s fucking mug, “Finn is _far_ too fucking good for you and always will be, no matter how many _Tony’s_ you win, or whatever roles you slay on Broadway, because he is kind, and selfless and fundamentally good, while your _only_ redeeming feature, Rachel, is that you can sing, as if that’s some _fucking virtue!”_

Rachel slapped her in the face hard with an open hand. It made a whacking sound and her cheek burned, but Santana only smiled. _Is the truth hard to swallow, Berry?_

“Finn regretted sleeping with your slutty ass,” Rachel sounded like she was going to stick her tongue out afterwards it was getting so juvenile.

 _Fuck you,_ Santana changed her tone, as if to say, ‘is that right’, Santana finally answered Rachel’s accusation plainly, “Is that why he came back for seconds? And thirds then?”

Rachel’s face crumpled in pain.

“Leave!” Rachel screamed, “Just get out, I won’t live in this house with you one more second!”

And then she was sobbing, dropping to her knees like the drama queen she was.

“You fucking _bitch_!” Rachel yelled.

Kurt was still too stunned by the whole thing to say very much.

“Sounds good!” Santana responded in her automatic way, she wouldn’t give Rachel the satisfaction of thinking she was upset or annoyed by the sudden turn of events.

Santana grabbed the minimum she needed to be away for a night, and she’d have to get the rest of her stuff later, not that she had that much stuff here yet, and left.


	4. Distance

Finn was at the tire shop under the chassis of a Ford Falcon with an oil leak when his phone started ringing, he wasn’t supposed to have it with him while he was working. But Burt had stepped out so he slid out on the trolley to check the display, hoping it was Santana. He just needed to know she was okay, even if she didn’t want to _talk_ talk.

“Hey Kurt,” Finn greeted his brother.

“Finn, did you enjoy yourself at the… is it still called a ‘reception’ if no wedding takes place?” Kurt got distracted with the specificities.

“Yeah, you know, I was dreading it, but now, I’m really glad I stayed,” Finn was feeling really good about everything.

“Have you heard from Mr Schue?” Kurt enquired.

Finn explained, “Yeah, he’s pretty bummed, just kind of laying low.”

Finn had stopped obsessing about kissing Emma too. He figured Santana was right, that probably wasn’t what caused her to run off. A marriage would be stronger than that, Miss Pilsbury and Mr Schue were meant to be.

“I’ve been thinking you know,” Kurt tried to sound casual, “You really need to get out there, it’s been a long time since you and Rachel ended things, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, maybe just go on a date, or go dancing.”

“Me dancing?”

Kurt suggested, “I’m gonna be back in a month or so, maybe we could go out for a ‘boys’ night out’.”

“Thanks Kurt,” Finn sounded sure of himself, “but you know, I don’t think so. I already… got back out there, and I’m all good,” Finn felt proud of himself for having turned a corner. 

“Really, how did that happen?” Kurt seemed very interested in the answer.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Finn waved off explaining the encounter he’d had.

“Like that you slept with Santana, apparently multiple times?” Kurt sounded catty.

Finn was dead silent on the other end. _How the hell!?_

_Santana told everyone. **Again!**_

“ _How_ does that even happen?” Kurt couldn’t contain his distaste.

“I was lonely, she was lonely,” Finn sounded lost, then all he felt was annoyed, _damn it, Santana!_ “She told you!”

“Rachel saw something, we’ve just had World War Glee here,” Kurt explained, “and Rachel kicked Santana out.”

“What!?” Now Finn was the one who was stunned, “Is she okay?”

“If you call sobbing for four hours straight, okay, then she’s fine,” Kurt was sarcastic.

_Seriously? I didn’t mean for this to happen._

“I meant, is _Santana_ okay?” Finn clarified. _You know since she’s now homeless!_

“Your first concern is Santana?” Kurt was shocked, but recovered quickly, “Interesting.”

“We aren’t together anymore,” Finn explained, “I didn’t want Rachel to find out, but we didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Okay Finn,” Kurt was abrupt, clearly feeling the need to re-educate him, “Girls don’t sleep with their friend’s ex’s, especially not when it was as serious as you and Rachel were.”

“Since when are Santana and Rachel friends,” Finn threw out, off handedly.

“Good point,” Kurt conceded, “The 30 second truce is over, and now they hate each other again.” 

Finn didn’t want to cause problems between them, but it was hard for him to feel sorry about what had happened at the reception, _I needed her, she made me feel better_. “What do you want from me, here?” Finn let Kurt hear his frustration.

But Kurt sounded well, curt, “Well, I hope it was worth it.”

 _She was._ But he didn’t say anything.

“So, what’s the deal, you were just happy to get back out there,” Kurt still sounded pissed off, “or are you two keeping in touch?”

Finn was honest, “I don’t know, Santana’s kind of hard to pin down.”

Kurt couldn’t help it with the judgement, “I’m going to need you to explain to me how that even happened… you know, since you have a… burrito and Santana likes tacos.” 

“What?!” Whatever cutting culture references Kurt was making at his expense, Finn was lost. _Or was that about Santana being Mexican, she’s not actually Mexican though._

“You’re a guy!” Kurt explained.

Finn had been thinking about it a lot, and while he’d never felt in the slightest bit attracted to another dude, Santana had spent years getting it on with guys, maybe for her it wasn’t like it was for Kurt. Brittany was certainly into both. Or maybe it was something else, he didn’t know, but he figured it was okay if there was no label for what it was.

“You know what, Kurt,” Finn said with a touch of contempt, “not everything fits into neat little boxes.”

_You can tell me she’s gay all day and it didn’t mean anything, but I know it did._

He didn’t even wait for his brother to respond, “I’ll see you,” Finn ended the call before anyone else could barrage him with anything else.

))))))

It was nearly midnight when he answered his phone mostly to stop it from making noise. It had been a week since the ‘no wedding’ reception and three days since he spoke to Kurt.

“Hello?”

“Say it isn’t so!” Rachel demanded on the other end.

“Hello, to you too, Rachel,” Finn covered his annoyance with humor.

They had been talking on the phone from time to time, and though he knew she didn’t mean to, Rachel tended to gush about all the amazing stuff she was up to. And while he was happy for her, and didn’t begrudge her, her success, Finn didn’t feel she was equally happy for him. While she asked after him too, he always felt she was disappointed with whatever answer he gave. His stuff wasn’t good enough for her.

“Santana!” Rachel practically yelled, “ _Again_! You know how crazy she makes me!”

“Rachel, you and I aren’t seeing each other anymore, and last time I checked you had a boyfriend,” Finn reminded her calmly.

Rachel had clearly rehearsed her speech, “This is about showing some basic decency, by not… sleeping with my friends.”

“You and Santana are _not_ friends,” Finn pointed out.

“We live in the same house, Finn,” Rachel wasn’t nearly done with her list of all his wrongful behavior though, “And don’t shove it in my face.”

Finn was ready for that particular barb, “Not shove it in your face by say, taking my new partner to a wedding when I know you’ll be there?” He tried to keep his voice even for the delivery.

“That isn’t fair,” Rachel argued.

“You’re right, you have every right to move on and take Brody to whatever you want,” Finn was being honest, “it made me feel like crap, but I have to deal with my big feelings about it,” Finn admitted for the first time out loud, “because it’s not my place to tell you what to do,” Finn was finally on the other side of it, so he knew it was right. “And I’ll show you respect, but I’m gonna move on too, Rachel.”

“Fine!” Rachel pouted, “just not with her.”

“Rachel,” Finn was annoyed, “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Just not with _her_ ,” Rachel repeated.

Finn really didn’t feel like having this conversation, “Why do you have such a chip on your shoulder about her, anyway? She’s a good person.”

“No, she isn’t,” Rachel scoffed, “Santana is a jealous, manipulative, fucking _whore_ … who is determined to make my life a living hell.”

Finn didn’t agree, but he tried to make Rachel feel heard, “Why do you feel that way?”

Rachel launched into her list of grievances, “Because she’s sleeping with my ex just to fuck with me!”

 _So, Santana and I wasn’t real, it was all about you!_ Rachel’s assertion pissed him off.

“It had nothing to do with you,” Finn insisted. _Well, not directly_.

“She just uses people, Finn,” Rachel insisted, “She slept with you sophomore year just to cause problems for us.”

“That’s wasn’t why,” Finn disagreed, _she told me why before we went on the date, so Sue would make her head cheerleader and she’d be more popular out of it._

He knew they’d both been naïve though, sex is never just sex, being intimate with someone does stuff to you, your head, not just your body. Finn knew that now, but he hadn’t known it when he agreed to the date with Santana.

“Why then?” Rachel snapped.

“That’s between her and me,” Finn wanted to stop this discussion from going any further into a personal attack on Santana’s character. “Santana’s very upfront,” Finn informed Rachel, “that’s one of the things I admire about her.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say.

“And you think she’s hot,” Rachel reminded him, still sounding hurt by it all this time later, “no, what did you say ‘superhot!’”

“Not this again,” Finn sighed because he was genuinely sick of this, “Santana is not the reason we are broken up right now.”

Rachel went to speak, but thought better of it and stopped.

Finn tried in vain to make her see, but he couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice, “Nobody has done anything wrong here… not you, not me and not Santana.”

“You didn’t hear what she said to me…” Rachel started to cry again, “She hates me and she couldn’t wait to rub it in my face that she slept with you again. How can’t you see what a manipulative _bitch_ she is!”

Finn didn’t think that was Santana’s motivation this time. But he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t do that, so he remained silent.

Rachel was adamant, “Finn, I’m trying to look out for you, as your friend.”

_Yeah, right!_

“We aren’t friends, we’ll never be friends,” Finn suddenly understood it, surprising himself, “we were always into each other,” He knew it was true as it left his lips, “even when we were dating other people, we’ve just been kidding ourselves.”

“Finn,” Rachel sounded desperate, she could see the turn in the conversation.

But Finn suddenly resolved, “I think we should give each other some space, so we can really move on, not just pretend to.”

“No, Finn,” Rachel teared up.

Finn was adamant, “No contact, not for a while.”

“Finn,” Rachel’s voice cracked.

“I think we’ll both come to see this is best.”

Her only response was soft crying.

“I love you, you know I do,” He tried to soften the blow, feeling torn inside, “but this has to be goodbye, for a while.”

He let her hang up when she was ready. Finn didn’t feel good about it.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

And then the grief set in. He cried, he wallowed, he didn’t shower for nearly 2 weeks. He was grieving for the loss of his relationship, but also the makeshift plan he had in its place. That he would wait for her. Rachel would go and be a star, and when she was done with all of that and ready to settle down she’d come back and it would be like she never left.

It was ridiculous. Rachel was at the start of a four-year degree, and while he never doubted that she would make it, it could take a long time, and Rachel wanted to do it all, play all the big roles. Her career was everything to her. And even then, who’s to say she wouldn’t meet some handsome leading man and forget all about him. Rachel thought she wanted him right now, but once all these people start throwing themselves at her, he’d be forgotten. He was nothing special.

But it was the waiting that had proven too much. It’s a long time to be so lonely and not to have any hope. Finn couldn’t just go out there and have mindless sex, he needed more, it had to be real. He couldn’t wait 15 years for Rachel to maybe come back. That isn’t a life. He needed to actually move on now. It felt awful at present, because he’d lost all his hope in that future he was hanging onto.

After a while though, he started to think, he’d find a new hope and a new future to aspire to, and while cutting Rachel out of his life would hurt, somewhere down the track this was going to allow him to feel good again.

It needed to be. They would both see it in time.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

A month passed before Finn tried calling Santana again.

She finally responded with a text, ‘I’m fine, Finn. In LA, staying with Mercedes. It’s great here, I’m going to try my hand at acting. Come see us.’

Finn was relieved to hear from Santana and know that she was okay. He knew Santana was savvy and could take care of herself, but New York is a big place full of bad people, and he worried she might be in serious trouble since becoming homeless.

Once the offer was there though he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

_She asked me to come and see her._

_Maybe she does want to pick up with me, but it was going to be really awkward while she was in New York, and now… she’s not there, so?_

He’d given up on acting pretty fast. _The Actor’s Studio isn’t the only school._ It only felt that way because he knew he had to pick somewhere in New York. But he didn’t need to now. L.A. had to have so many places he could take classes. There were actually way more acting jobs in L.A. And the kind of acting he wanted to do. The more he thought about it, the more into the idea he became.

He had been working at the tire shop full time and living at home, so he had about $2000 saved, that was plenty.

He gave it a day or so before writing back, ‘sounds awesome! say hi to Mercedes from me. Im glad ur happy. I think I will come- if you really mean that offer’

He waited nervously for her reply.

Santana just texted the address.

_Awesome!_

)))))))))))

Finn decided to drive to L.A., it was a long way, but he wanted to be able to take all his personal stuff with him. Mom and Burt were surprised, but happy he seemed to be motivated and willing to put himself out there.

Kurt must have told them something too, because a few days later his Mom started quizzing him about Santana. Finn was sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich.

“I thought she was gay? Weren’t there ads or something?” His mom was confused.

Finn wasn’t sure how to talk to her about it, “I really like her.”

“Honey, I’m am so proud, that you are picking yourself back up, and chasing your dreams,” She explained, with her concerned parent tone, “I just hope you aren’t… putting all those hopes you had for you and Rachel onto the next girl, because that isn’t fair.”

“I’m not, Mom,” Finn said, but then he didn’t feel confident.

_Fuck everyone making me second guess myself!_

_What happened the night of the reception was real. I know it was. And Santana can deny it all she wants, but I know she felt it too._

“Okay,” Mom backed off it a bit, “Be careful. And just know, you can always come home, it’s a big adjustment, so try to give it time, but if you hate it there, just come back, if you run out of money… whatever it is, call, okay.”

Finn smiled.

She hugged and kissed him. 

“My little boy’s all grown up!”

)))))))))))

Burt talked to him on the day he left.

“I like a girl with a bit of sass,” Was all he said regarding Santana, “I know you put it all out there, Finn, but maybe just hold back just a little, go slow,” Burt clapped him on the shoulder.

“What makes you think I’m the one that’s diving in?” Finn asked.

“She sent you one text message and you’re moving to L.A.” Burt pointed out.

_Okay, maybe he does have a point._

“You’re not going to give me the, ‘she’s a lesbian what are you thinking’ lecture?” Finn asked.

“Kurt filled me in on all of that, but he also mentioned you have history with this girl, sophomore year history,” Burt stared at him, giving Finn the opportunity to confess.

“Yeah, um, yeah,” Finn felt ashamed, even now, “I… she was my first.”

“Were you her first?” Burt asked a question that surprised Finn. Burt clearly didn’t really know Santana, _at all_ , apparently.

Finn shook his head.

“Well, good on you for trying again, because it’s bloody hard, it took me years to try again,” Burt really did look proud, “Gay, straight, anything in between, we all want to be treated with respect,” Burt explained, “Maybe, you two are gonna be close friends, maybe more, but it’s got to be built on a foundation of mutual love and respect.”

“Can you make that advice more clear?” Finn asked, feeling like this was on a tangent right now.

“Don’t rush, get to know her outside of Glee Club, who is she, what does she care about, what made her who she is, what are her hopes and dreams.”

“I will,” And Finn smiled, because he didn’t know the answers to those questions right now, but he genuinely wanted Santana to let him in enough to tell him herself.

“And be careful, and safe,” Burt said, “Use a condom.”

Finn was mortified now, “I’m gonna go now.”

Burt wasn’t nearly done, “Lesbians can still get pregnant if you jizz in their…”

Finn covered his ears with his hands, “Nah na nah nah, nana nah nah!”

))))))

And so, Finn took to the open road with a bunch of classic rock to keep him company, and a picture Quinn had texted him of her and Santana at the wedding, but he’d cropped Quinn out of the picture.

They were only texting at this stage. Santana was too elusive to talk on the phone, but he was working on her. She responded pretty quickly to him when he texted now, so that was progress.

And he’d spoken to Mercedes. Far from a visit, she was encouraging him to move permanently, enroll in acting classes and go to auditions, like Santana. Apparently, her record label had put her up in a two-bedroom place, and Santana had the other room now. And Puck would sort of live in his van and breeze in and out as suited him when he needed to cook a meal or do laundry and would sometimes sleep on the couch.

He kept thinking this was a good combination of people, he and Puck had dreamed of LA together, and he wasn’t afraid that Santana and Puck were going to rekindle anything. And Mercedes and Santana got along as well as any of the girls from Glee Club, outside of Brittany and Santana, but that was different.

And now he’d get the opportunity to see if it really could be real between them.

_Awesome!_

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

L.A. was so big, it just stretched on and on. There were so many of everything. He got completely lost looking for Lincoln Heights. As it turned out the apartment complex was only a mile from the San Bernardino Freeway. Finn didn’t get much of a chance to look around, he was so tired, he just wanted to see some familiar faces.

“Finn!” Mercedes pulled him into a hug, she looked so excited to see him, “Welcome, welcome, welcome!”

Finn stepped inside her home and Mercedes gave him the tour. The apartment was only small, but fairly modern and nice. It even had a dishwasher, which was pretty fancy as far as he was concerned. The building had 20 flats or so, a pool, gym and laundry room. And they had a designated car space, though Mercedes was using it. The neighborhood was close to the Hollywood strip, but kind of rough. They were near Dodger Stadium.

Puck was sitting on the sofa, playing with his axe. He gave him a knowing smirk, “You’re my hero, Dude!”

“Huh?” Finn didn’t know what he meant.

“When you have the time, you really need to explain to me how you turn lesbians straight again, You da’ man!” His friend beamed.

They hugged and Puck patted him on the back.

“She told you!” Finn was starting to feel really pissed that everyone knew about their encounter that had been so wonderful and private.

“Santana hasn’t said a word,” Mercedes readily admitted, “I told him. Kurt told me.”

He turned back to Mercedes, “Speaking of Santana… is she here?”

“In her room,” Mercedes pointed.

Finn felt so nervous, he went and knocked. He could hear old timey soul music playing.

She cracked the door open then stepped back away and sat on her double bed. Santana looked casual in a white fitted tee and blue jeans with her hair out.

“Hi,” He beamed, knowing he couldn’t contain his excitement at seeing her.

Santana was kind of blushing. She looked girly and shy for some reason.

“This seat taken?” Finn sort permission to sit next to her on the bed.

The only bit of personalization in the room was a Lady Gaga poster on the back of the door.

“It’s nice,” He said of the room, “How are you settling in?”  
“L.A.’s a cool place, I like this neighborhood, keeps my Spanish sharp,” She grinned.

“Are you taking classes?” He asked.

“Enrolled, but they don’t start yet. Just getting a job, and going to auditions.”

“We haven’t really talked… since,” Finn tried to start the conversation, considering now if it might have been easier if he’d prepared a song instead.

“Yeah,” She looked at her boots.

“Do you regret what happened?” Finn asked the question he needed the answer to.

She shook her head, but still didn’t look at him.

_Sweet relief._

“I was thinking, you and I have never been on a proper date,” Finn explained, “Maybe we could take things really slow, and just get to know each other better.”

Santana still seemed really tense. And silent.

 _Just because she’s not regretting it, doesn’t mean she wants to do it again, either_ , he reminded himself.

“Or not,” Finn said, “I’ll understand if you don’t want anything more, we can just be housemates.”

But he was dying inside. _Please, I just need a fresh start._

“No pressure,” But Finn was scrambling to understand her hesitation.

“You’re in love with someone else,” Santana said flat out, “and so am I.”

Finn nodded, “But we aren’t with either of them now, they’ve both moved on and we need to try too.”

Santana still looked caged. Santana was all fidgety, which he didn’t expect, it felt as awkward as the post-sex avoidance after the first time. 

“So maybe, without any pressure, we could hang out and have fun,” Finn explained it simply, “and see if maybe, whatever this ends up being, helps us both… move on?”

Santana got up and went over to her iPod that was hooked up to some speakers on top of her tallboy. She put on a song Finn instantly recognized. Then she started pacing the room nervously.

Rather than talking she started singing with her perfect Amy Winehouse voice,

_“Meet you downstairs in the bar and heard  
Your rolled-up sleeves and your skull t-shirt  
You say, "Why did you do it with her today?"  
And sniff me out like I was Tanqueray_

_'Cause you're my fella, my guy  
Hand me your Stella and fly  
By the time I'm out the door  
You tear men down like Roger Moore_

_I cheated myself  
Like I knew I would  
I told ya I was trouble  
You know that I'm no good_

_Upstairs in bed with my ex-girl  
She's in the place, but I can't get joy  
Thinking of you in the final throes  
This is when my buzzer goes_

_I cheated myself  
Like I knew I would  
I told ya I was trouble  
You know that I'm no good”_

She’d changed the lyrics to ‘her’.

Finn finally understood _, this isn’t a sex thing._

Finn signaled her to cut the music, and she did.

Finn spoke, “Do you _like_ like me?”

She looked pensive. She crossed her arms defensively, and her tone was panicked, “You’re such a good guy, Finn.” The implication of her words was clear, that Santana didn’t think she was a nice girl.

Finn couldn’t believe it _. This is a very different dilemma, that’s for sure._

He knew what he needed to do, “Whatever concerns you have about yourself,” He tried to explain how he felt, “I don’t have them about you,” Finn knew he was more confident about this than he’d been about anything in ages, “underneath everything, I know you have a wonderful heart, Santana, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

“You don’t know me very well,” She was being self-depricating.

“I know enough.”

“I don’t see how this can possibly work,” She said, still defensive.

Finn tried to allay what was obviously her other fear, “I’ve been warned, if you end up leaving me for a girl, well… okay… I’ll accept that is a risk,” He held up his hands in surrender.

She was still, but he felt her mask was about to peel off and she was going to cry, but she was trying really hard to hold it all in.

“Please, go out with me,” Finn persisted, gesturing with his hand for her to take it, and his offer.

Santana was still for a while, not sure what she wanted to do.

“You’re so corny!” Santana jibed, but she sat back next to him on the bed, and she finally reached out her hand.

_Awesome!_

“Tomorrow night?”

Santana held up her hands, “I’m am not going to the fucking Sing-a-along Sound of Music or some other Broadway bullshit!” She warned him, “I’m not Berry.”

“I don’t want you to be Rachel,” Finn was clam, but couldn’t contain how happy he was, “just be you.”

“So, you want to go to a Lesbian Bar, then?” She asked.

“I’ll come up with something,” He pecked her lips, “Awesome!”

He left the room before she could change her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is 'You know I'm no good' from Amy Winehouse's _Back to Black._


	5. Beautiful Day

**_A/N:_ ** _Spotlight Diner is assumed to be the exact same as in Glee season 5 except that it’s in L.A. instead of New York._

They decided on a karaoke bar. There was only one Karaoke bar in Lima, and Rachel had lost an audience poll for applause there once, when she was in middle school. It was a meaningless competition, like the winner won a free drink, but Rachel had taken it to heart and never gone back there.

Luckily, it meant, that Finn had never had a karaoke date with her, so this was something new just for him and Santana. And he wanted it to be fun and musically focused, to emphasize what they had in common.

They went to Backstage Bar on Culver Boulevard. It had an Irish Pub atmosphere with dingy lighting, but was sizable, with polished wooden interiors.

“This is gonna be my last Friday night out for the next while,” Santana admitted, “I got a job as a singing waitress at Spotlight Diner,” She smiled.

“Awesome!” Finn was happy, it meant she was staying, “I’m sure you’ll be great at that, and it’ll keep your voice sharp for singing and acting gigs.”

“I start tomorrow and I’m working every night of the week except for Mondays,” She informed him.

“I’ll have to stop by,” He smiled.

They went in and found a table. All the furniture was polished wood, with extra tall round tables and stools.

“I’m going to sing the first song about how I feel about you,” Finn beamed as he put his name down on the list.

Santana went back to her hard facade, “If you sing a love song, I will throw my drink in your face.”

“That’s totally fair,” Finn chuckled.

He put the list for the host down in front of her.

Before saying, “And I think you should do the same.”

Santana retorted, “‘Oops, I did it… again!’… perhaps?”

Finn gave her a playful shove.

Santana kept going, “‘It ain’t me, babe?’ Keep up the Bob Dylan.”

“Totally up to you,” Finn played it cool.

“The lesbian classic ‘Come to my window’” Santana sniped before looking sad, as if she remembered something.

_I know you like me, pretend all you want_.

They both sat through a decent version of _Thunderstruck_ , and a terrible version of _American Pie_ that went on for all 17 verses, with Santana making snarky remarks the whole time that were dead on. Finn hadn’t laughed so hard in ages.

“Finn,” The Host called, “You’re up.”

_Backstage Bar_ had an rectangular island where the drinks were served in the middle, with one whole end open all set around a decent size raised wooden stage. Finn stepped up and took the microphone.

He heard the keyboard pad, electric piano and bass outlining the chords start to play. He knew he had about 15 seconds of intro before the lyrics started.

“I’m on a first date tonight…” Finn said to the crowd of 150 or so people, “… with a girl I’ve known for four years. I’ve just had… the worst time of my life these last few months… and then there she was.”

Finn took a step forward, and motioned, “Santana Lopez, could you stand up,” He asked, knowing she probably wouldn’t want to.

Santana raised her hand and waved, but the crowd encouraged her to her feet, so she did and smiled in a fake ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way at Finn.

He was beaming, “She was there for me, with her big heart. She’ll tell you she’s a bitch, but don’t believe her.”

The crowd reacted to that with shock and laughter.

He blew her a kiss, “Santana, thank you, thank you for helping me see the bigger picture, this one’s for you.”

Finn loved this song and he loved U2, he’d been singing it since he was ten, but right now, this song was the epitome of where he was at. He started to sing.

_“The heart is a bloom  
Shoots up through the stony ground  
There's no room  
No space to rent in this town_

_You're out of luck  
And the reason that you had to care  
The traffic is stuck  
And you're not moving anywhere”_

Finn got off the stage and went over to the table he’d been sitting at moments before. He wanted to sing it right to Santana.

_“You thought you'd found a friend  
To take you out of this place  
Someone you could lend a hand  
In return for grace”_

He got down on his knees and stared up into her eyes, and Santana was so embarrassed she covered her mouth with her hands. Finn sung on, not deterred in the least.

_“It's a beautiful day  
Sky falls, you feel like  
It's a beautiful day  
Don't let it get away”_

Finn got up, and took her wrist, and pulled her up to dance with him.

_“You're on the road  
But you've got no destination  
You're in the mud  
In the maze of her imagination_

_You love this town  
Even if that doesn't ring true  
You've been all over  
And it's been all over you_

_It's a beautiful day  
Don't let it get away  
It's a beautiful day”_

He held her hand and she twirled under his arm, and then back the other way. The crowd cheered so loud.

_“Touch me  
Take me to that other place  
Teach me  
I know I'm not a hopeless case”_

Then Santana insisted on sitting back down. He went back to the stage to much cheering from the onlookers. He was singing to everyone, but he was only really seeing her.

_“See the world in green and blue_

_See China right in front of you_

_See the canyons broken by cloud_

_See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out_

_See the Bedouin fires at night_

_See the oil fields at first light_

_And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth_

_After the flood all the colors came out_

_It’s a beautiful day_

_Don’t let it get away_

_It’s a beautiful day_

_  
Touch me_

_Take me to that other place  
Reach me  
I know I'm not a hopeless case_

_What you don’t have_

_You don’t need it now_

_What you don’t know_

_You can feel it somehow_

_What you don’t have_

_You don’t need it now_

_Don’t need it now_

_Was a beautiful day”_

Finn received a standing ovation, and couldn’t help but go back to Santana, he pulled her into a hug and swung her around. While she was making a half-hearted attempt to stop him. Needless to say, he won the free drink card based on applause.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Santana was smiling but couldn’t help but convey her shock, mostly that anyone could be so open about their feelings.

“You’re starting to like my corniness though, right?” Finn asked cheekily.

She shook her head, exaggerating her disbelief at how he could wear his heart on his sleeve like that.

_This is so foreign to her._

Finn was back to deciding he shouldn’t drink, so he gave Santana the drink card and she got herself a white wine. Half an hour later and lots of crappy renditions of songs neither of them liked, or songs they liked until the singers ruined for them from this moment on. 

The Host finally called out, “Santana, hit the stage.”

She received a huge amount of applause, probably just because the audience remembered her from Finn’s performance. She walked very slowly, and for Santana, she actually looked nervous, which was odd, because she didn’t usually look nervous, even at big competitions. She always knew how to bring it when under pressure.

“Hi, umm,” Santana shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, “this song is actually a duet, Finn, I’m kind of hoping you will sing it with me.”

The slow thudding piano started to play. There was more cheering as Finn got up to join her, and she handed him the other microphone.

He saw the song title on the screen and smiled, looking right into her eyes for a moment, and he saw it, just a brief flash, _she’s happy_.

Santana looked at the screen rather than anything else, even though she no doubt knew the words, she seemed to have every Rhianna song ever written memorized. If Finn didn’t know her better, he’d think she was shy. She had the perfect voice for Rhianna, even better than Rachel.

Santana started in with her soulful rasp,

_“All along it was a fever  
A cold-sweat hot-headed believer  
I threw my hands in the air, said, 'Show me something'  
He said, "If you dare, come a little closer"_

_  
Round and around and around and around we go  
Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know”_

Santana finally looked over at him, and sung the words right to him now. Finn felt a flutter. _  
  
“Not really sure how to feel about it  
Something in the way you move  
Makes me feel like I can't live without you  
It takes me all the way  
I want you to stay”  
  
_

He just felt so happy. He took a breath ready to sing the Mikky Ekko part, he had a highish classic rock voice so it was perfect.

_  
_ _“It's not much of a life you're living  
It's not just something you take, it's given”_

He turned to look into Santana’s eyes as he sung.  
_  
“Round and around and around and around we go  
Oh now, tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know  
  
Not really sure how to feel about it  
Something in the way you move  
Makes me feel like I can't live without you  
Yeah, it takes me all the way  
I want you to stay”_

And then they joined their voices together. _  
  
__“Ooh, ooh, ooh, the reason I hold on  
Ooh, ooh, ooh, 'cause I need this hole gone  
Funny you're the broken one but I'm the only one who needed saving  
'Cause when you never see the light it's hard to know which one of us is caving”_

Santana started the final chorus alone, _  
__“Not really sure how to feel about it  
Something in the way you move”  
  
_

Finn joined her again for the next two lines, copying Rhianna and Mikky.

_“Makes me feel like I can't live without you  
It takes me all the way”  
  
_

Then Santana went on to sing the remainder of the song’s Rhianna part alone,

_“I want you to staaaay_

_Staaaay_

_I want you to stay_

_Ohhh oh”_

She nailed the vocal theatrics and runs in the last few notes and the bar went wild clapping for her. Finn reached out his hand, and Santana took it, he held up her hand in victory, and then they both bowed.

He couldn’t help but be thrilled she’d sung _that_ song, with _those_ lyrics. That was as close as he was going to get to a love letter from Santana Lopez any time soon.

When they got back to the table, he kissed her cheek, “That was beautiful.”

Santana was clearly embarrassed so felt the need to push him away, “Oh, I wasn’t singing that to you, I was singing to the hot blonde bartender in the green dress,” She replied.

Finn looked over and smiled.

_Sure you were. You just have to tell me you are one foot out of this relationship all the time_. He smiled. _I know you like me, pretend all you want._

Santana won another drink card, of course, and got herself another wine. He’d said he wanted to take it slow, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that was good advice. But, he wanted to leave the bar now, so he could be alone with her. Short of putting his name down and waiting again so he could sing ‘How can I get you alone’.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Finn asked, when she hadn’t even finished her drink.

She looked at him, with those sad eyes, with a small smile and nodded. She took a long swallow of her fermented beverage, and Finn put his arm around her and they walked back to his car.

“That didn’t suck,” Santana admitted.

_Santana Lopez for ‘I had a good time.’_

“I had a great time,” Finn knew he was grinning like an idiot, he couldn’t help it, he felt all warm and fuzzy.

He was about to get in the driver’s side, when he felt her grab his jacket collar and started to kiss him, pushing him up against the window. He was about to remind her they were taking things slow, but he didn’t really want to in that moment either. Santana could make him feel alive, just from kissing, his whole body would pulse and he’d feel like his cheeks were flushed and everything seemed brighter or more real or something. They remained embraced joined at their mouths for a long time, before Santana pulled his wrist to encourage him to get in the front seat.

“You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking,” _two wines for someone her size was plenty_.

“No, there’s more room in the front seat, get in and recline the seat all the way,” She ordered.

Finn obliged even though he thought this was silly. Santana got on top of him, a knee either side of his hip. She leaned forward and began kissing him again.

Finn managed to say when she moved her lips to his neck, “This is so high school, you have a room.”

“Mercedes is great, I love her,” Santana explained, “but they’re both being really weird about this, and I’m sure she’s going to tell everything to Kurt, and he’s going to tell Berry… and it’ll be a whole thing, and before you know it, she’ll fly over here and confess her undying love for you…”

_Really?_

“You’re being a bit dramatic,” Finn thought that was ridiculous, _well not the gossiping part, that is probably right_. “Rachel hates L.A.”

“But she loves you,” Santana said sadly.

She’d stopped kissing him. This conversation had killed the mood. Finn wanted to tell her that he had instituted a ‘no contact’ policy where Rachel was concerned, but he just didn’t want to talk about it at all. Rachel had tried calling, texting and emailing, but he hadn’t responded. It was a lot harder actually doing it than it was to say you were going to do it.

Santana opened the door again and got out. And Finn took a moment to realize he needed to drive them back to Mercedes’ place now.

“I heard you two had kind of a blow up that led to you being asked to leave,” Finn stated, they probably should have had this talk before their date. He got out and went around to the driver’s side now.

Santana just shrugged, “Doesn’t matter now.”

But he needed some answers, “How did Rachel know?”

“She didn’t, she just had a suspicion,” Santana said, “she was obviously watching you very closely.”

“And you admitted it,” He tried to ascertain.

“Shit went down, I admitted it,” Then Santana looked guilty, “and I _may_ have told Berry what I really think of her.”

_Worse than when the Beatles proclaimed to be bigger than Jesus._

Santana looked sheepish, “Neither of which was very smart, but at the time… let’s just say sometimes I forget to leave the Lima Heights Adjacent in Ohio.”

“So, you didn’t like… brag and put it in her face or anything?” He just wanted to be sure.

“Why would I?” Santana was rightly annoyed at his question, “I had a good thing going in New York, I didn’t want to mess that up.”

“How bad was it?” He wondered aloud.

Santana’s quipped, “Worse than Mariah Carey’s acting in _Glitter_.”

Finn didn’t get that reference but he knew her intent was to say ‘really bad’.

Santana elaborated, “Her obsession that everything is about her, and everyone being jealous of her talent…” The frustration in Santana’s voice was evident, “just makes me want to take her down a peg.”

“Rachel’s is always going to be important to me,” Finn reminded her.

Santana stopped, “I know… it’s just…” Santana got flustered, “how about we just agree not to talk about Berry… _like ever_.”

“Rachel called me about it already,” Finn confessed.

Santana’s eyes went wide for a moment, like she was worried what he’d been told about it.

“Whatever, it’s done now,” Santana didn’t want to dwell on it.

Santana seemed pissed. They drove back in silence.

))))))

Finn parked, and reached out his hand, to stop her immediately storming off.

But it was Santana who spoke first, “I can’t do this, if she’s going to be… in our… whatever this is.”

“Rachel and I are taking some space, no contact,” He admitted, “for the last month or so.”

She was still a while, before she finally nodded, “Good.”

Santana went straight to her room and that was how the night ended. He slept on the couch again, and it was the world’s most uncomfortable sofa ever invented, it didn’t pull out, and it was too short for Finn to lie stretched out on, he had to sleep with his knees bent.

The date went better than he’d hoped it would. The other stuff, well it would just need time. They would grow to trust each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter;  
> 'Beautiful Day, by U2 off _All that you can't leave behind_ (2000)  
> And 'Stay' Rhianna ft Mikky Ekko from _Unapologetic_ (2012)


	6. Spotlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Spotlight Diner is assumed to be the exact same as in Glee season 5 except that it’s in L.A. instead of New York._

Santana was just coming in from her morning run when she heard her phone ringing.

“Britt!” Santana was excited to answer her cell.

“Santana, hey.”

It was so nice just to hear her voice. To feel she wasn’t really so far away.

“How was movie mash up week?” Santana asked. They were talking every four days or so, so she was pretty up to speed with everything.

“It was good,” Britt sounded far away, “the boys did this Top Gun underwear thing.”

_I’m not touching that one!_

“The girls did Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend with Material Girl” Britt reported, “Mercedes killed it. I don’t understand why she’s repeating senior year though,” Britt sounded far away, “I was sure she graduated.”

Santana decided to let that one slide. “Who won?”

“I don’t know, no one ever seems to win those,” Britt considered for a moment, as if that was inexplicable. “How’s L.A.?”

“It’s looking up,” She admitted, unsure of how much she should say.

“Yeah?” Britt sounded happy for her, “What changed?”

“You know how you told me… I could find a girlfriend, but not a best friend best you already have that job?”

“Yeah, of course,” Britt said.

“As my best friend,” Santana felt nervous, “do you want to hear about it, if I meet someone?”

Britt was silent for a few moments, deep in thought, “Of course, that’s a huge part of your life, I want you to be able to tell me anything.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m not sure how much you and Sam I can take,” Santana admitted honestly.

“I want you to be happy with someone who is as awesome as you are, who you really like,” Britt explained, “So, if you’ve met someone, I’m happy for you, so tell me about her.”

Santana took a deep breath and braced herself, “It’s a _he_ actually.”

Britt didn’t miss a beat, “I’m happy for you, so long as he’s as awesome as you, or you really like him or whatever.”

“I’m not sure yet,” Santana was hesitant, “We’ve only had one date.”

“Does he excite your lady loins?” Britt asked innocently.

“Yeah, it’s weird, I think he does,” She said, not really understanding it herself, “I honestly don’t know why though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like any guys, except for him,” Santana tried to explain.

“Is he different?” Britt asked, “To other guys?”  
  


“Maybe?” Santana didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t make sense of it. Santana didn’t even consider Finn hot, the way she could acknowledge Puck was hot. Or how Sam, because he kind of looked like the boy version of Britt with botox, kind of got her motor running. She wanted to tell Britt it was Finn, but it was so new, and she didn’t want Britt to laugh at her. _Britt wouldn’t do that._

“It’s Finn,” She finally said, feeling the panic rise within her, awaiting a response.

“What’s Finn?” Brittany asked.

“The guy I went on the date with.”

“Finn Hudson?” Britt asked.

“Yeah, Britt, how many other Finn’s do you know?” She tried not to get annoyed.

She waited.

“Finn’s a good guy,” Britt agreed, “But, he’s a terrible dancer, and you repeatedly said he’s bad in bed, and you think he’s fat and dumb…”

Santana could help but laugh, because she had said all of those things.

“I know I said that,” Santana admitted.

“So, what changed?” Britt asked, “Or do you not mind that he is uncoordinated and chubby now? Or did he get better and dancing and lose weight?”

“What!?” Santana honestly struggled to keep up with Britt’s thought processes sometimes.

“Ah, um, I… didn’t really mean all those insults.”

“Oh, which ones?”

“All of them…” Santana admitted.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Britt,” Santana braced herself.

“Who asked who out?”

_What was the honest answer to that?_

Santana felt awkward, “I guess I made the first move at the… reception, but I wasn’t thinking about it being anything, then.”

“Okay,” Britt accepted it, “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” And she really meant it, “I wasn’t sure how the… being friends thing was gonna work when we both… were seeing other people.”

“No problem,” Britt really did sound fine with it, she was no bullshit, no animosity, “now you can be happy for me too.”

“I’ll try,” She admitted. _More like, I’ll try to try._ “Umm, one thing, I’m not really telling people yet.”

“Oh, why?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Berry knows,” Santana couldn’t keep the discomfort out of her voice, “you know after the whole knock down, drag out fight we had.”

Santana hadn’t told Britt the context of the fight, just that Rachel had called her a slut, and Santana had given her a piece of her mind. But that was a good week later, because she’d had bigger problems at the time, like her shit not getting stolen from the back packers hostel she was forced to endure until she could regroup.

“Wouldn’t Finn have told her?” Brit seemed dumbfounded by that, but sometimes it was hard to tell with her.

Santana knew he hadn’t though, because Berry hadn’t shown up in L.A. “I’m not sure he has.”

“Because he’s not sure about you?”

Santana didn’t want to consider the implications of that. She had been pretty sure it was about protecting their relationship.

“So, don’t tell anyone yet, not even Sam, okay.”

“Okay,” Britt agreed, “if that’s what you want.”

“You’re a really good friend, Britt.”

“Your best friend,” Britt corrected her, “Feel the love all the way from Lima.”

“I do,” Santana smiled, “love you, Britt.”

“Love you, too.”

((((((((((((((((((((((((((Mercedes POV))))))))))))))))))))

“Kurt?” Mercedes was trying on outfits when her friend called.

He launched right into a diatribe, “Rachel is being insufferable since she found out about ‘that which cannot be named’.”

That was the code name for ‘Finntana’, as Mercedes had dubbed them.

“Tell me,” Mercedes listened.

“It’s like she’s forgotten other people live here, she uses all the hot water, hogs the bathroom for hours, and she’s nit picking Brody now, like every little thing he does,” Kurt’s voice conveyed how painful it all was, “but what she’s really saying with every breath is ‘you’re not Finn’.”

“That sounds bad,” She agreed. _Just wait until Rachel finds out Finn and Santana are actually dating!_

Kurt clearly needed to blow off steam, “telling you, ‘Cedes, it’s hard to watch.”

Mercedes had details of her own to report, “They had their first date last night.”

“No way, like they are actually, actually like… doing this?” Kurt still couldn’t believe it.

“Yep,” Mercedes enjoyed that she had the juicy dish, “They went to a karaoke bar.”

“Horrifying!” Kurt was somewhere between cackling and just stunned.

Mercedes kept filling him in, “They came home around 10 pm, not talking to each other.”

“So, that’s it, then, the universe has realigned itself,” Kurt couldn’t hide his relief, “and they’ve realized what we all know, that they aren’t right for each other?”  
Mercedes told her friend all she knew, “Santana’s starting a her new job tonight, she’s a singing waitress, anyway, Finn’s gonna go with her, because he’s also hoping to get a job there too.”

“Wait, so they are still…”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to judge, but Finn seems in really good spirits,” Mercedes did her best to put her observations to words, “Santana seems… I don’t know, like nervous or something, but I can’t tell if that’s because she likes him or she’s uncomfortable.”

“What does Puck think?”

“What _isn’t_ Puck doing,” Mercedes laughed, “He’s hitting on Santana with no abandon, because he seems to think this suddenly makes her straight.”

“No!”

“Yes! It’s painful,” She laughed. Mercedes continued her narrative, “Santana’s been coming up with some fantastic one liners, I’ll tell you, I have _got_ to start writing that Grade A material down, that girl’s gonna help me finish my album, there are so many burns!”

“So, any more… kissy kissy, bump in the night?” Kurt even made slurping noises just to make it more grosse.

“Not sure, I didn’t hear anything last night,” Mercedes explained, “Finn appeared to sleep on the couch.”

“Okay, so nothing to report.”

Mercedes asked the important question, “What are you going to tell Rachel?”

“Nothing yet,” Kurt sighed, “if it fizzles, there’s no point in making her think they even tried to date.”

“But, she knows he’s moved to L.A. right?”

Kurt was evasive, “Not exactly, they’re not speaking since the fallout from ‘that which cannot be named’.”

Mercedes was calm, but insistent, “You need to let her know, sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll have to wait for her to come to terms with… them not talking,” It suddenly dawned on Kurt, “Merciful Barbara! She’s going be even worse once she finds out. She’ll go running to L.A., I can see it now!”

“Still,” Mercedes warned.

“Rachel loves Finn and Finn loves Rachel,” Kurt broke it all down, “he’s just chasing after the first girl who touched his privates since having his heart broken.”

Mercedes was silent for a little longer than normal, “I got to tell you, Kurt, it doesn’t look like nothing, they’re both acting different… I don’t know _exactly_ what it is right now, but it’s something.”

“Thanks for the update, I gotta go, Vogue awaits,” Kurt sounded distracted now.

“No problem, love you,” She replied.

“Speak later tonight?” Kurt asked as he wound up their chat.

“Sure, but after eight, I got studio stuff.”

“Done!”

“Bye!”

“Kisses.”

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) FINN POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn found his way to the Spotlight Diner, it was only four blocks from Mercedes’ house, Santana planned to walk home every evening, but she was knocking off at midnight six days a week, so without being all controlling about it, Finn wanted to work there and finish at the same time to so he could walk her home, because L.A. wasn’t Lima and he didn’t think it was safe.

It was 9 pm, so she’d be having her dinner break soon. Finn sat in a booth near the shopfront windows. Santana came out in a sleeveless red dress that buttoned up on one side. It was as short as her Cheerios skirt, accompanied by red leather thigh high boots, with a little white apron.

Finn did a double take when he saw her, “That’s what you have to wear?”

Santana rolled her eyes, “It’s like wearing a sign that says ‘yes, please feel me up, I don’t mind!’”

“That sucks.”

“The tips are really good so far, though,” She admitted, “I just have to resist the urge to spit in rude customers’ food!”

Finn enquired, “What do the guys wear?”

“Black loose pants and a bowling shirt, _such_ a double standard!” She fumed, not realizing Finn wanted to know for himself.

“So, which one’s the manager?” Finn asked, “I’ve got my resume right here.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s close, I get to sing, I get to see you,” _And make sure no one murders you on the way home._

Santana pointed to a balding, overweight middle-aged man who appeared to be living up to the stereotype, “That’s Bill, the evening manager.”

“What song did he make you sing?” Finn tried to prepare himself. He was thinking a retro place like this he’d sing ‘You’re the one that I want’.

Santana shook her head, “Are you kidding, he took one look at me in this and hired me on the spot.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Finn found Bill, shook his hand, gave in his resume and sort of did the interview all in one hit. Bill walked over to the juke box and asked the nearest customer, whether she thought Finn was cute. She was about sixty and looked like a librarian, but she looked him up and down and said, “Very handsome!”

Finn felt like a piece of meat.

“And what would you like to hear him sing?” Bill asked.

“Oh, I’m partial to The King! Do you know any Elvis, young man?”

Finn was not expecting that. He nodded.

Bill put ‘Burning Love’ on the juke box and pointed to the floor, “Your audition, Sir.”

Thanks to Mr Schue Finn actually did know this song. It was his dancing and theatrics he didn’t feel confident of.

He took a deep breath, and tried to lower his natural voice,

_“Lord Almighty,  
I feel my temperature rising  
Higher higher  
It's burning through to my soul_

_Girl, girl, girl  
You gonna set me on fire  
My brain is flaming  
I don't know which way to go”_

Santana came over to him, to help with the dancing, to make Finn look better. And lend her voice to harmonizing on the chorus.

_“Your kisses lift me higher  
Like the sweet song of a choir  
You light my morning sky  
With burning love”_

Santana took his hand, Finn lifted their hands up to make a bridge and she twirled around under his arm and back again, and shook her hips.

_“Ooh, ooh, ooh,  
I feel my temperature rising  
Help me, I'm flaming  
I must be a hundred and nine  
Burning, burning, burning  
And nothing can cool me  
I just might turn into smoke  
But I feel fine”_

The librarian was clapping, so Finn came closer to her, and rolled his hips. She was very impressed, and actually reached out to touch his chest with her hand. Finn was quite taken aback by that, but he tried to keep going with the song. He made it seem natural, but he danced his way back to the open floor.

_“'Cause your kisses lift me higher  
Like a sweet song of a choir  
And you light my morning sky  
With burning love”_

Bill stopped him there, “I’ve seen enough, Finn Hudson, you start tomorrow.”

“I was hoping for the evening shift, finishing at midnight.”

“You actually _want_ those shifts?” Bill was amused.

“Aspiring actor,” Finn explained, “I’ve got classes and auditions during the day.”

“Done! You and Santana can be on lock up together,” Bill clapped his hands in satisfaction, “I expect you to work every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night.”

“I will,” Finn vowed.

“Monday is you’re night off.”

“Perfect,” Finn smiled.

_Yes_ , he’d gotten the exact same shifts as Santana, 6 pm -12, six nights a week.

Santana put another order into the kitchen, and came back over.

“Did you see!” Finn beamed, “I got it!”

“I had no doubt,” She was being really nice, “Congrats!”

He beamed. He wanted to kiss her cheek, but refrained.

“I’ve got 15 minutes now for my break.”

She disappeared and came back a little later, Santana opened up her bag and pulled out a cardboard envelope, “Check this out, I got these headshots done last week.”

The photos were stunning, amazing resolution. And they made Santana look like a sexy good girl with a secret in her eyes.

“There’s open auditions on the soap opera, ‘The Bold and the Beautiful next Monday.”

“Okay,” Finn said, assuming there was a role Santana was going out for, “never seen it.”

“I’m still trying to get an agent,” Santana outlined her plan, “They are looking for someone to play a 22 year-old Puerto Rican maid, who is fluent in Spanish, who will have an affair with the millionaire country club owner and his son.”

“Well, that sounds like a good fit for you,” Finn agreed.

“And, you should audition for the millionaire’s son, he’s supposed to be 19, and home from some Ivy league college for the summer break, and he plays guitar.”

“I don’t play guitar”

“Pay Puck to give you lessons,” Santana suggested, “you just need enough to do ‘Smoke on the water’.”

Finn couldn’t help but smile, “You’re really good at this.”

Santana opened the planner on her phone, “I booked you for headshots on Wednesday, same guy who did mine, he’s really good, and we can work on your resume on Thursday.”

_‘We’._

“So, I can sit on the couch tomorrow and Monday,” He smiled.

“No way!” Santana stated, “Waxing Monday morning, here” She gave him a pamphlet.

“I need to be waxed?” Finn was amazed, “Not my eyebrows!”

“Maybe just neaten,” She said, holding his face and inspecting them herself, “Your chest and back definitely.”

“I don’t have a hairy back!”

She ignored that, “Then, spray tan Tuesday afternoon, you’re going for a pratty college boy, you need to look like… like you didn’t just step off a bus from Ohio country boy!” She cupped both sides of his face with her palms, “He’s meant to have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he’s a gentle soul, who sees something in my character, so he doesn’t think he’s better than ‘the help’.”

“It does not say that in the casting call,” Finn pointed out, looking at the paperwork.

“Well, it’s not going to say that,” Santana shook her head at his lack of feel for this stuff, “you have to learn how to extrapolate what they want from the words they use.”

“How do you know all of this?” Finn was in awe of her skills.

“My Mom, she wanted to be a jazz singer, she tried her hand at acting too.”

“Wow, really?” Finn didn’t know that, “what happened?”

“She got married at 22 and started having babies,” Santana sort of dropped her defensive shield at brief moments, and you were never quite ready for it, and before you knew it, it was back up again. “We’ll go shopping for audition clothes on Friday.”

She showed him a photo of the actor playing the millionaire club owner, “You really look like you could be his son, Finn.”

Finn had to admit that was true.

“That’s a _huge_ advantage,” She told him, “Now you just need to grow some self-entitlement, ooze charm, and you need to work on your ‘big city boy’ vibe”

Finn didn’t feel that optimistic, “I sound all wrong for this.”

Santana disagreed, “You know lots of acting jobs are won on looking the way the casting director wants.”

Finn was still taking it all in.

“I’ve got the scene, we can run lines together,” Santana told him.

“Sounds good.”

“We should probably jog every morning too,” Santana seemed to be think out loud now.

“You don’t need to lose weight,” Finn stated, as if it were just a fact.

Santana shrugged, not agreeing with him, “Cameras make you look bigger than you are.”

He’d noticed she was funny about her weight, so he said no more.

“You’re a really good girlfriend,” The second Finn said it he froze, they hadn’t made anything official yet. He tried to recover, “What I meant was, I’m glad you’re looking out for me, now,” He smiled at her, and put his hand over hers, just for a moment.

Santana also did an uncomfortable pause, but decided to let it slide, “We’ll see if you are still saying that next week!”

))))))

He walked home, then came back around midnight. It was just Santana and one kitchen guy closing the place up, he was showing her what needed to be done.

“You’re back!” Santana didn’t know of his intention, “We’ve cleaned everything, you can’t order food after 11:30.”

“I’m not hungry,” Finn said, “Just wanted to walk you home.”

“Seriously?” Santana seemed amazed more than angry, “we spent all day together.”

“I know,” Finn held his tongue rather than say, ‘I missed you’ he was still worried Santana was a flight risk.

Santana wasn’t pissed, “I’ll be another 10 or so, if you’re happy to wait.”

“I’ll wait.”

When she finally came out she gave him a baggy with some cake from the display that was now considered too old to sell, and some cold fries.

Santana was full of pithy banter, “You totally waited up for a shag.” She had a wily look on her face.

“We’re taking things slow, “He reminded her.

“Yeah, right,” Santana scoffed, “How slow is slow? ‘Cos a girl’s got needs, just because you seem fine with not getting laid, doesn’t mean I am.”

_What am I going to do with you?_

She showered and then changed into her tank top and pajama pants.

Mercedes was in her room, but the light was still on, and Puck was nowhere to be found.

Finn sat on the couch and waited, he wasn’t quite sure where they stood with stuff.

Santana invited him into her room, which very quickly turned into a make out session, with her lying on top of him on her bed.

She not so subtly let her hands disappear under his shirt. And then she unbuttoned his jeans.

“Stop!” He said.

Santana rolled her eyes, “We already know each other.

“I told you I want to wait.”

She was frustrated, “We’re not 14 anymore!”

“Santana!”

Finn sat up, she was still in his lap.

“Wait for what?” Santana expressed her frustration, “Some arbitrary line in the sand, ‘No sex before X number of dates’, so you don’t feel ashamed? Why?”

She crossed her arms.

“It’s not about that,” Finn knew he needed to make her see, “I want it to be really special.”

Santana decoded what she thought he was saying, “So basically, you’re going to starve me, so when you finally toss me a rice cracker, I’ll think it’s the best damn meal I ever ate?!” Santana sounded really unimpressed.

“ _No_ ,” He corrected her assertion, “I want to wait until… it _feels_ right, because I know you, and I … _really_ care about you,” Finn did his best to make her see.

“I thought _this_ was us agreeing to _whatever_ until we get over our ex’s?” Santana pointed out.

Then Finn knew what he needed to do, “Tell you what, you want something, I want something, we’ll bargain.”

Santana’s face showed annoyance and confusion, “What?!”

“I want to know stuff about you, and every time you answer one of my questions honestly, you can make a request of me.”

“Like we’re 12 and playing truth or dare?” Santana concluded, “I know what you’re doing! You think forcing me to be all open and shit is going to make me all gooey inside.”

“I want to know you,” Finn reiterated, “take it as a complement.”

He saw it in her face, a brief flash, she was flattered.

Santana acted more put out than she actually was now, “What kind of request?” Then she cocked an eyebrow, “A sexy request?”

“Anything you want,” Finn was smirking as if imagining all the dirty things she’d come up with. “Call it the intimacy game, the more you give me what I want, the more I’ll give you, what you want.”

“Are you sure you’re a teenage boy and not a nun?” Santana snapped.

Finn waited.

She threw up her hands in surrender, “Okay, fine.”

Finn smiled, he was getting somewhere with her, he knew he was, “What’s your relationship like with your dad?”

“PASS!”

“You can’t pass,” Finn couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“That’s a _particularly_ bad question for me,” Santana wouldn’t look at him, and her voice shook a little, “I have to get the option to pass sometimes.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I am definitely not going to want to fuck you once I’ve talked about my dad,” She warned.

Finn waited.

“Fine!” She was clearly still shitty though, “What’s the minimum number of words that can be considered a sufficient answer?”

Finn had to think on that as he was making up the rules as he went, “Three complete sentences.”

Santana thought for a moment, put up a finger to signify each new sentence, “My father is an asshole. He doesn’t care about me. And I hate his guts.”

Finn hadn’t quite expected that.

“My go,” She smiled, “Go down on me!”

“15 words does not equal sex,” Finn shook his head at her attempt to subvert the game, “I’ll take my shirt off.”

“Don’t bother,” Santana had straddled him and she was writhing up against his groin.

It was making him so hot. And then her hands were under his shirt again and she was playing with his nipples. It was weird just how sensitive he felt from that, he’d never really thought that could feel that good for guys.

“Santana!” He said, but Finn’s heart wasn’t in the resistance any more.

Her mouth swallowed the rest of his hesitation, and he found his own hands tracing her breasts. She started to grind up against his crotch with her groin. He was hard, and it was obvious. Santana didn’t try and take his pants off, she just kept raking her mound up against his bulge.

_How does this feel so good?_

It got hot and heavy pretty quickly, and even her breath was catching again.

_I’m gonna cum in my pants._

Before he could, he felt her change the thrusting, she started to stop and hold her position as if trying to get the contact just right. He kept rubbing against her. She started jerking rhythmically, an involuntary shaking, and she let go of a breathy sigh.

“Did you just?”

Santana rolled off him, “I used to love dry humping more that sex,” she confessed, “Before Britt.”

She laid next to him for a moment, to relax. Finn was still not there yet. She snaked her hand down his pants to finish him off.

“No,” He started to say.

“Oh, come on,” She couldn’t help but make fun of him, “This doesn’t count.”

She was so good at touching him, she did it fast enough, but not too hard, she got some oil or cream or something, and slid her hand up and down without the friction, bringing the heat. _It’s hard for anyone else to touch you as well as you touched yourself, I mean you’re an expert at knowing what you want, right?_

But, Santana was something else, it’s like she just knew. Her other hand pulled his shirt up, and her lips closed around one of his nipples. 

_Wow!_

Then she would breathe her hot breath on his nipple after she released it, letting him feel a sting of cold, then her tongue would make delicate circles over it again.

_Hot!_

Finn started to shake and he began all stiff and tense, and Santana lifted her top up and let him cum on her stomach. Which he did, in messy wads staring at her beautiful tits.

“Seriously!” She was grossed out by the sheer volume.

_So embarrassing!_

“See, this is what happens when you starve yourself!” She patted his cheek condescendingly.

“I haven’t felt like it until recently,” Finn admitted.

He would never have a conversation like this with anyone, not Rachel. But Santana was just so… unashamed.

Santana just found him astonishing, “You _actually_ must have a vagina, maybe that’s why I’m in to you!”

She was insulting him, and somehow still complementing him. _You’re in to me!!!!_

Santana let him sleep in her bed that night, but she refused to let him cuddle her. She turned away from him, so Finn laid looking up at the ceiling. Finn wasn’t sure what this was at this point, but whatever it was, he wanted more of it. She was the only one that made him feel anything right now. Now that he lived in a world without Rachel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is Elvis' 'Burning Love'


	7. Audition

Finn couldn’t believe it, he got a call back for ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’. Santana had also made it to the final ten for the Latina maid, but that was no surprise. She’d killed her first audition. There were about 250 women up for the part. They went on Monday and there we over 300 young men going for the same part as him. The part was Spencer Mann, son of Alan Mann, millionaire business tycoon. But Spencer is a gentler soul than his wealthy conservative family. Ten actors had been called back. He was up against guys that had been to drama school and everything. Really good-looking guys, with perfect white teeth and chiseled abs, and strong jawlines. What did he have to offer?

Finn had put on his resume that he played guitar, and he was going to have to prove it today. He’d borrowed Puck’s acoustic guitar, but his secret weapon was that he was going to sing with his playing to make him seem better than he was.

Santana and Puck had been coaching him, Puck on how to sell sexy and stylish while playing, and finding a fairly simple guitar song, and Santana had been helping him with the singing. And he was pretty damn proud of himself, he felt ready to trick them into thinking he had been playing for longer than 2 weeks.

Finn finally got into the room and there was no microphone, just five middle aged people sitting behind a desk, looking like they’d been at this for far too long. Puck told him to try and charm one of the women in the room with his eyes during the performance. There were only two, so he picked the younger one, so that made it easy.

“I’m Finn Hudson,” He made eye contact with every single person in the room, “and I’ll be playing ‘Stand By Me’, by John Lennon.”

Finn started strumming the guitar, and smiled boyishly between the panel of casting people. He was nervous, but he felt prepared at least. He started to sing.

_“When the night has come  
And the land is dark  
And the moon is the only light we see”_

He started to move, slowly towards them rocking his hips ever so slightly with the beat, ensuring he wasn’t looking at his hands, to show he was proficient. _  
“No I won't be afraid  
No I won't be afraid  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me”_

Finn had the audacity to sit on the edge of the table the casting panel were seated at, something Puck and Santana had encouraged him to do. He gave a flirty smile to the younger woman in the thick glasses with the curly dark hair that he was intending to charm during this performance.

_“And darling, darling stand by me  
Oh, now, now, stand by me  
Stand by me, stand by me”_

Finn then smiled boyishly, and managed to make eye contact, as he got up and went back to where he’d started the audition.

_“If the sky that we look upon  
Should tumble and fall  
And the mountains should crumble to the sea  
I won't cry, I won't cry  
No I won't shed a tear  
Just as long as you stand, stand by me”_

He took a deep breath, it was essential he nail the vocals for the bridge, all part of the Santana Lopez school of distraction, so they wouldn’t notice how incredibly simple this song was to play and theat he wasn’t all that good.

_“And darling, darling stand by me  
Oh, stand by me  
Stand by me, stand by…”_

Finn didn’t get to finish the whole song, the thin man with the thick mustache told him, “Thank you, Finn, very nice.”

Finn felt he’d sung well, but he hoped they thought so too. If they were guitar experts though, they’d probably be sniggering. Finn hadn’t known there would be so many of them. And that they’d all look so… bored. He finished, and nodded, and said thank you to the room.

One of the men, the bald one, looked over at the sheet, “Finn Hudson?”

Finn nodded.

“Well done,” Said the balding casting director, or whoever he was.

“Lovely voice,” The older woman commented, smiling back at him.

He said “Thank you,” and nodded awkwardly and left.

The script they had for this call back was the meeting scene between Spencer and Marisol Reyes, the part Santana wanted. Spencer comes home halfway through sophomore year at college for his younger brother’s 18th birthday. Just as Marisol arrives for her first shift as a maid. She’s wearing the French maid outfit, which was picked out by Alan, who’s already treating Marisol as his hired mistress. Anyway, so younger brother, Tyler, assumes that it’s a stripper costume and Marisol is their ‘entertainment’ for the evening. The boys’, already liquored up start harassing Marisol to take off her clothes, and turning up the music and trying to grind dance up against her.

Marisol is put off, and not sure what to do, but is insisting she _actually_ is a maid. Spencer then steps in and stops the boys’ behavior before it gets any worse.

The script they were reading from started at this point. Spencer invites Marisol into their father’s study where he introduces himself and apologizes for his brother’s treatment of her, and hopes she won’t quit after that display. Marisol says she needs the job as it pays well. She’s clearly nervous and uncomfortable, and so Spencer tries to break the ice by asking her about herself.

Marisol says she’s been a maid for 4 years, and has always found it safer to be invisible where her employers are concerned, played sadly. ‘I’m not your employer’, Spencer points out, to which she says, ‘no, just my employer in training’. He says ‘Don’t think of me like that.’ Marisol replies, ‘I’m sure you’re nice to your college friends, and you give to charity and stuff, but I don’t live in your world, Mr Mann.’

“There doesn’t have to be this big divide,” He suggests.

‘We’re not going to be friends,’ Marisol snaps, that’s how Santana plays it, before getting a hold of herself and returning to her reserved composure, ‘I have to work to survive, and I’ve had to learn how to do that.’

‘Fair enough’, he says, accepting that she doesn’t want any further imposition.

‘Do you know why your father asked me to start this evening given that he’s not here and your brother is throwing a party?’

‘No idea, sorry.’

‘Is your brother really having a stripper? You know what, I don’t want to know,’ Santana did this part accentuated with a raised open hand.

‘Not if I have anything to say about it,’ Spencer says, showing his disgust at treating women like sex objects.

Spencer doesn’t push anything, but his parting words are, ‘I know you resent us,’

‘I didn’t say that’ She replies.

‘You don’t have to,’ Spencer says. ‘But I’m not like my family and the rest of the country club, I don’t think you’re a slave’ he approaches her, ‘you’re a person with your own story.’

‘So essentially, we’re the same,’ Marisol seemingly agrees with him.

Spencer nods, ‘Yeah.’

‘Except that you go to a university that costs $30,000 a year, live in a house that costs $5 million dollars, are on a first name basis with local politicians and judges and will one day run all of this,’ Marisol points out, to Spencer’s open mouthed silence, ‘and I struggled to get here today because the bus was late, and I had to run the last six blocks and if I don’t get paid next week I’ll likely get evicted from the shithole apartment I live in with three generations of my family.’

‘Marisol,” Spencer says.

‘So, apart from all of that, we’re the same,’ Santana delivered it with the perfect amount of impatience, distain and sort of vulnerability, like she’s telling him, she just wished he got it, and she didn’t have to explain this to him.

‘I know my brother can be a handful, and my Dad's… having some kind of mid-life crisis, but if you have any problems here, I want you to know you can come to me.’

Santana as Marisol shoots him a look of disbelief. Santana did it with an adjustment of her body posture to show her discomfort.

But Spencer tries to win her trust, ‘Because Marisol, I see you’.

‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Mann,’ She says in parting, ‘I had better start picking up those bottles for the recycling, can’t expect those prep school boys to pick up after themselves, can we?’

**))))))**

They’d practiced it a lot. Santana had been helping him memorize and making it seem natural, and how to get his facial expressions just right, and what hand gestures or movement should be paired with what dialogue.

It was actually quite a well written and decently sweet scene for a soap opera. Finn had been binge watching the show with Santana after their morning runs, so they could catch up to what was going on. Finn had never seen it, but The _Bold and the Beautiful_ had been on TV for like… ever, so they couldn’t watch the whole thing, just the last year or so. The acting tended to be overly dramatic and the storylines far-fetched, but still, it’d be a great gig if they could land it.

What was even more amazing was that Finn did one read through, and then they kept having him repeat it with all the perspective Marisols. That seemed like a really good sign. Santana had clearly been right about how to play the scene.

When he and Santana did the scene together, he thought it was the best one, and that their chemistry was off the charts. He was trying not to make it creepy though, because his character can’t seem like he wants into her pants too overtly, given the problem initially is that his father and brother are treating her like a prostitute.

But he really felt they both gave it their best. Santana appeared sexy, but vulnerable, and guarded in the right balance.

**))))))**

After they finished, the casting director had them stand together, look into each other’s eyes and embrace. They wanted to see if they looked good together.

“Have them kiss,” One of the panel ordered.

Which they did. A kiss that could have set oceans on fire. The only time he used tongue, because he was only happy to stage kiss everyone else.

“They look good together,” Was a comment Finn could only just hear between panel members. It wasn't meant for his ears though.

Then there was more hushed discussion on the panel. It was so nerve wracking and he and Santana just stood there, afraid to move, getting more and more nervous.

**)))))))**

There was a lot more standing around, and everyone there was apprehensive, all the Spencers and the Marisols. The induction host came back saying that a decision had been made about Spencer, but they were still deciding about Marisol.

“Congratulations, Finn Hudson, you’re our Spencer Mann.”

_I got it!_

_I GOT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!_

“I can’t believe it,” He said, looking at Santana. Finn felt like jumping up and down. “I got it!” He exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

Santana was really happy for him, “This is _huge_!” She hugged him.

He kissed her in full view of everyone. He just couldn’t contain how he felt. He said thank you to all the people and shook the hands of a few actors who’d missed out, but were well-mannered.

They got back to Finn’s car, and flattened the seats. Finn laid back and Santana straddled his waist. And then she kissed him. They were no holds barred now. And Finn let his hands roam her body, under her shirt, her flat stomach, he pushed her skirt up.

“Thank you,” He said.

Her lips swallowed his words.

“You did this…” Her mouth took his words again. “Santana, I …” Nope, more of her tongue now didn’t allow him to say more.

Santana’s hands worked his belt and fly, and in mere moments his dick was out, semi hard, and in her hands.

He wanted to stop so he could tell her how much all her support and guidance meant to him, but he also wanted to thank her with all the happy feelings he was overcome with right now as well, so he didn’t want to stop anything.

He didn’t even take her g string off, he just pushed it to one side, as he fed his snake into her snatch. She felt so hot and inviting. He liked watching her spread open like that, seeing her lips part as his cock pushed into her, and he felt her body hugging him tight as he went deeper, and seeing the shiny glaze as he came out part way coated in her desire for him. He thrust again and he felt her wet heat pulsing around him.

Santana had this way of rhythmically gyrating such that she clenched and released him so tight. He watched her stomach making rolls, seeing her muscles individually moving. He leaned forward and pulled her top up so her could look at her bra.

He pounded so hard, even though she was on top, he just had all these feelings, he just wanted to make them so hot and he just couldn’t stop, he was out of control, and Santana was rocking her hips so hard and fast to keep pace with him, holding her hands on the roof to steady herself, while he had a hand on each of her hips to help him guide her around his slamming thrusts.

Finn was overcome with all the heat, and wet and squeezing and came soon after. They were both completely puffed, and he could feel Santana’s chest heaving, and her whole body was rising and falling as he was struggling to catch his breath beneath her.

“Thank you!” He said, barely able to say both words without a breath in between.

Santana smiled in a self-satisfied way, “Hudson! That was hot!” She leaned forward and kissed him.

“I think I’ve lost all control when it comes to you,” Finn admitted.

And it was true, he’d never been so… led around by his dick, or hormones or whatever before Santana. She just like… did things to him, and he couldn’t help but want to be fucking her 24/7 or thinking about doing it.

“Fuck me, Finn Hudson,” Santana’s tone implied he’d managed to surpass expectation, yet again.

Finn reciprocated wholeheartedly, “Thank you!” He said, “you’re the reason I got the part, I had no clues, I wouldn’t have even known about that audition.”

She smiled, cupping his cheeks, “I _know_ you’re gonna kill that part, it could be more than just a small arc, you know.”

“You’re awesome!” He kissed her lips again, just a peck.

Santana got embarrassed and so just pushed his face sideways with her hand.

She laid flat on his chest for ages, they were still enmeshed in one another, still half clothed. They had sweated up with the whole car smelling like sex.

“You were definitely the best Marisol, it will be robbery if they don’t give you the part,” Finn said.

Santana didn’t look so sure. But she seemed happy he thought so. She repaid his complement with a peck on his lips, and some more fondling of his nipples, which he was finding he really liked.

After about half an hour, Finn finally felt ready to function again. “I gotta call my Mom! She’ll be so excited!”

**))))))**

“So soon, you’ve only just moved!” Mom beamed down the phone all the way from Lima, “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I still… it hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Tell me about this show, when is it on?” She asked before calling out, “Burt, come here, Finn got an acting job on a soap opera!”

“No kiddin’!” He could here Burt coming closer.

Mom was still gushing, “I’m going to start watching it so when you come on, I’ll know all the ins and outs of what’s happening.”

“That the doctor is sleeping with a woman who turns out to be his long lost twin sister he was separated from at birth,” He quipped, because that was standard soap opera dramas far as he could tell.

Mom only laughed on the other end, “Stop!”

He explained what he knew so far of the role.

Then he told her, they both had good news, “Santana got down to the last 10 women to play a maid who is my love interest. We’re still waiting to hear if she got it too.”

“Honey, that’s so great!” Mom agreed, “when will she know?”

“Soon, couple of days, maybe,” Finn informed her, “I just feel really good. Like good things are starting to happen for me!”

Mom couldn’t contain her pride, “I’m so glad you put it all on the line and moved to L.A. You sound really happy.”

“Me too. I am happy.”

Mom was still a mom, “And how are things going… with Santana?”  
“Really good, so much better than I ever dared hope.”

“Well, I… can’t say I’m not surprised,” She really did sound like she was going to drop the phone, “but if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“She’s a really good person,” Finn said with such pride now. Finn was being, “You just have to learn to ignore her efforts to push you away when she likes you,” He described.

“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Mom replied, “You want to talk to Burt?”

“Yeah.”

They said their goodbyes and Burt came over the receiver.

“Congratulations, Finn!”

“I can barely believe it myself,” Finn admitted.

“I’m glad they could see what we can all see,” Burt just sounded so thrilled for him, “How special you are.”

Finn smiled, “Thanks.”

“And how about everything else?”

“Santana and I are dating,”

“How’s that going?”

“ _Really_ good,” He felt a little sheepish though, “we’re not taking things as slow as I wanted too,” Finn admitted, “Santana doesn’t have a hand break, it’s really hard to tell her no.”

“Car jokes! Love it!”

“I got a job as a singing waiter at this diner. Working evenings, so we can walk home together.”

“Sounds like you’re spending a lot of time together.”

“Yeah, it’s funny, when Rachel and I would spend lots of time together we’d usually start fighting because it was too much, and my habits would get on her nerves or whatever,” Finn tried to explain, “But, Santana and I, we’re in this tiny room, and it’s a mess, I don’t have much stuff, all her stuff is like clothes and make up, but it’s whatever, she doesn’t get shitty about it. We’re both a bit messy and don’t care.”

“So you two are… living together as a couple?” Burt extrapolated.

“Yeah, I guess we are, I sleep in her room and not the couch.”

“I don’t need all the details.”

Finn started to explain their new life to Burt, “In the morning we work out together, and watch TV together, and she cooks half the time and Mercedes the other half, and I permanently put myself on dishes duty, because let’s face it, no one including me, wants to eat my cooking.”

Burt chuckled at the truth of those words.

“And it works, it’s easy. She scans for auditions, and we rehearse together, and then we both wait tables in the evenings, and you know… _other stuff,_ and it’s really good.”

“If you can do all of that and not be bickering, you must in love,” Burt said it off-handedly, but it really struck Finn once that ‘L bomb’ had been dropped.

“It’s too soon for that, I’m not trying to scare her off,” Finn admitted, but he knew he really _really_ liked her.

“I was just hoping this would make me feel better than I was when I was alone and thought there was no point to anything,” Finn admitted suddenly, “now, I spend time with her, and I just want to be around her more.”

“So, have you two talked about anything serious?”

“Like what?”

“Your goals, her childhood…” Burt threw out examples, “Making a more serious commitment?”

“Santana’s really guarded,” Finn admitted, “but she kind of drops her… layer of invisible forcefield when you least expect it, and will just tell you stuff about her,” Finn wanted Burt to understand why it just wasn’t that easy, “but you have to be really patient and not pry or she’ll retreat and freeze you out.”

“Sounds… challenging.”

“It is, but I’m willing to put the work in to… be up to the task,” Finn explained as best he could, grinning like an idiot.

“Well, you sound really good, better than you’ve sounded in ages,” Burt observed, “whatever you’re doing is working, so… keep doing it.”

“I will.”

Burt couldn’t help himself with the lectures though, “And use a condom!”

“Bye Burt!” Finn made a point of ignoring him.

“Have you told your brother?”

“He’s my next call.”

“Finn, we’re just so damn proud of you!”

“Thanks… Burt,” Finn almost called him ‘dad’ without even thinking about it.

**))))))**

Finn told Kurt, who was really supportive. He told him all about the role of Spencer and the show and how Santana had helped him get the part every step of the way, and he’d inadvertently expressed how happy he was with her. Kurt seemed pretty shocked, but was trying not to piss all over his happiness. Finn then gave his brother permission to let Rachel in on events. Including, that he was now dating Santana, when he felt the time was right, since they weren’t speaking.

Kurt was silent for about 30 seconds.

“Rachel broke up with Brody a few days ago.”

Then Finn was the one that was silent. _She’s still there and I’m still here. This changes nothing_. But the part of him that missed her so terribly much was delighted. But what he said in the end was, “I’m sorry to hear that,” But he wasn’t really.

“Rachel’s been… kind of the Diva version of herself ever since the reception, I think Brody just got sick of it.”

“That sounds rough,” Finn tried to be supportive, but he didn’t want to get pulled into their New York drama, “is she being okay to you though?”

“We’ll, could be better, but I’m loving NYADA!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Finn really was happy for him, he’d tried so hard and auditioned so well to get punched in the gut end of Senior year, this was his big break.

“I’m have to perform a monologue for my drama class, I’m thinking about Rosalind’s monlogue, ‘And why, I pray you?’ from _As You Like It_ ’, what do you think?”

_And all I can think is that Rosalind is a girl’s name._

“See, Rosalind in this Shakespearean play,” Kurt attempts to clarify it for me, but I’m so far off knowing about literature and theatre, there’s basically no point, “is a girl dressed up as a boy, and so I’ll be a boy dressed up as a girl dressed up as a boy.”

“That’s really awesome, Kurt!” Finn was so happy for him and he wanted to be encouraging, “I know you’ll kill it, no matter what you do, man.” 

“I’ll keep you posted once I break the news to Rachel,” Kurt promised.

“I hope,” Finn stopped, “she’ll be happy for me.”

Kurt didn’t sound sure that would be the case.

**))))))**

It was the next evening. Finn had just come in from grocery shopping. Finn could see in Santana’s face that something was wrong.

“I didn’t get it,” She said, sadly.

“What? No way!” He felt angry for her.

She shrugged, totally dejected, “They found someone better. Or prettier, or thinner…”

“You were the sexiest woman there,” Finn dismissed, “You’re the sexiest woman alive. They need their heads examined.”

She smiled sadly at his complement, but it was little comfort.

“It’s done!” She said, “I’ll start Google searching for more auditions.”

“I can’t believe this shit!” Finn wanted to dwell a bit longer.

She changed the topic, “When do you start?”

“Next Wednesday, I have costume fitting, and I’ll get the script for the first episode. Rehearsal starts the following Monday.”

“That’s really great, Finn,” She smiled, her heart was breaking but she didn’t want to ruin it for him, “I better get ready for work.”

“Oh, shit!” He said, “I almost forgot.”

“I already scooped left overs into containers, yours is on the counter.”

“You’re so good to me,” He said kissing her on the cheek.

“Will you be putting your notice in?” She asked.

Finn hadn’t even thought of that, he still wanted to be able to walk her home every night. Well, even if shooting went late, it wouldn’t go until midnight, he didn’t have to work at Spotlight Diner to walk her home.

“I guess I’ll have to,” He said, but he wasn’t sorry, waiting tables for minimum wage was crap, even with the tips, after rent, food and bills, they couldn’t afford to do anything except the beauty routine to help them get acting gigs. Seeing Santana and hearing her sing was the only thing that got him through the drudgery of that job. He wasn’t sure what this acting job would pay, but it would be much better than waiting tables.

Santana on the other hand wasn’t good at taking shit from customers. And the thing about food service is you have to be polite to people even when they are being rude, or clicking at you or taking their bad day out on you, or complaining to you about their food not being right even though it isn’t your fault… and Santana had kind of a short fuse. He was worried she’d get herself fired sooner rather than later, she really needed for an acting gig to work out too.

**))))))**

Finn was on set for the first time. And he was so scared and excited. He was talking to the director, named Walt, and they were walking to a room for a table read, whatever that was.

“Can I ask you something?” Finn decided to tread very lightly, but he really wanted to know, “That third actress, who read for Marisol, Santana something… I thought she was the best.”

The director appeared to have no patience for his question, “What’s your point?”

“Why didn’t she get the part?” Finn asked, “She was also the best looking.”

Walt shrugged, “I didn’t make the decision, it was the casting director.”

“Is it possible to find out why?” He asked, “even just for the purposes of like feedback or whatever?”

The director checked his notes, “It’s done now, but I’ll see if I have it here.”

He busied himself in his notes, “Let me see, Santana… Santana… Santana Lopez?”  
“That was it,” Finn pretended he had no personal connection to her.

“Okay umm… it says she had 2 very strong auditions, good chemistry with Spencer, that would’ve been you… excellent Spanish, very attractive, good body… oh… she didn’t look right for the part.”

Finn asked, “What does that mean? She is _actually_ Puerto Rican.”

Walt shrugged but he did look at the notes more closely, “The casting director noted that she appears mixed race, lips and eyes appear African though she does somewhat look Latina as well, possibly Dominican, they didn’t want an Afro Latina for the part of Marisol Reyes.”

Finn was shocked, “That’s what it says?”

“Yep, better luck next time,” He shrugged, “that’s this industry, buddy, get used to it.”

That first day was so long. Finn didn’t know what being on his mark meant, what a call time was, what craft service was. They did the table read. He got lost, he cocked up his lines. They did a make-up and wardrobe pallet. And the make-up was itchy and he didn’t feel like he belonged there. But the thing that was putting him off worst was what they’d said about Santana. Did he just get the part over much better actors because of how he looked? The whole thing was so unfair! And he wasn’t even sure the casting director’s assertion was right, if they wanted to know about Santana’s ethnicity, they should have asked her!

He met the man playing his Dad, Alan Mann. His name was Reginald Ayers and he’d been in film and TV for over 30 years. His character was around 50, charming externally, but kind of horrible to his family and was generally a lying cheating scumbag. All part of the soap opera drama as he was one of the main antagonists. He was nice enough, and seemed happy to give Finn a few pointers for which he was eternally grateful.

**))))))**

Finn was exhausted, but he set his phone alarm for 11:45 pm so he could get to the diner to walk Santana home. She seemed really happy to see him, but really tired too.

“How did it go?” She asked.

“It’s so weird, all the stuff, I… it’ll take some getting used to.”

“You’ll get there,” She encouraged him.

“So, will you,” He reassured her right back.

She just flashed her brows at him. Finn looked at Santana really closely after that. _Is she Afro Latina?_ He’d never really thought about it.

“Well, I have an audition for CSI, playing a dead stripper,” Santana quipped, “So fingers crossed!”

“Do you get to be alive for any of it?”

“I think there’s a flash back to my murder, all of about 30 seconds of me walking then being grabbed and me screaming.”

“That’s still acting,” He said, “better than just lying on the ground and playing dead the whole time.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know,” She said being flippant, “there’s real skill that goes into not looking like you’re breathing while they do a whole scene with you lying there.”

“I have no doubt,” Finn admitted.

“The trick is to breathe really slowly and shallowly, so that the rise and fall of your chest is barely noticeable.”

They walked arm in arm, Santana was a lot more comfortable with him touching her now, for no reason other than that he wanted to be close to her. He could put his arm around her, or he’d interlock their fingers, and she wouldn’t pull away now.

“I want to tell you something,” Finn broke the comfortable silence, “but I don’t know if it’ll make you feel better or worse.”

Santana looked anxious.

“I happened to get a look at the casting director’s notes, I just wanted to see what they wrote about you.”

She crossed her arms, “And?”

“You want to know.”

She waited, impatiently tapping her foot, with a look that said ‘out with it!’

“They said you were the best, but didn’t hire you because the casting director noted that you look Afro Latina, and they wanted someone who _only_ looked Latina.”

He watched her face. He could see her features pull tight as she tried to stifle her anger. She blinked back tears, then turned and kept walking. He could tell she was really mad though.

“It’s not fair, isn’t that like racial discrimination or something?” Finn pointed out.

Santana fumed, “That is so…” She looked ready to hit something.

Finn suggested, “You should like… sue their asses!”

“They can do whatever they like, Finn.” She said sharply, as if to say, ‘don’t you know anything!’

“But you’re actually Puerto Rican, unlike the woman they hired who’s Mexican.”

“Oh please!” She scoffed, “Hollywood is known for some of the most ridiculous and offensive casting like _ever_ , Rosario Dawson was playing an Persian Princess in Alexander, and an Irish guy with dark hair was Macedonian Emperor who was famously blonde, and Angie Jolie who is one year older, than Colin Farrell was playing his Greek mother!”

“I didn’t see that movie,” Finn said, barely following, but knew she meant that it was ridiculous.

“I _am_ Afro Latina,” She said.

“I didn’t know that,” Finn admitted.

“Well, you’re not the kind of person to notice,” She said plainly.

She seemed content to leave it at that. But Finn had more questions than ever.

“I don’t understand,” Was all he said in the end, hoping she’d elaborate, because it didn’t seem like the kind of conversation you could try and impose on someone else.

“It’s hard to talk about,” Santana suddenly said, “You’ve met my Dad right?”

“Just briefly,” Finn said, “At graduation.”

“Dr Manuel Lopez,” She said full of distain.

Finn wondered what was coming.

“I don’t look like either of my parents,” Santana pointed out.

“I had noticed that,” Finn said feeling uncertain, “Are you adopted?”

“No,” Santana shook her head, before taking a deep breath, “I’m three shades darker than everyone else in my family because my Dad’s not really my dad.”

Finn was shocked, “Really?”

“It’s kind of an open secret in our family, my older brothers look like my Dad, and then there’s me.”

Finn knew enough to just wait, this kind of conversation was really hard for her. He put his arm around her so she’d know he supported her no matter what was coming.

“My Mom had an affair with her old boyfriend, he’s some saxophonist in the jazz band she used to sing lead for.”

“And he’s Black?”

“He’s Afro Latina, and darker than me,” Santana admitted, “Hence my lips, my eyes and my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“This is a weave, Finn,” She was shocked, “Haven’t you noticed me and Mercedes hogging the bathroom fiddling with all of this… I iron this bitch on every week.”

“I… don’t know, I thought it was… you know, your natural hair,” Finn didn’t really care about her hair though, “When you said you and your Dad don’t get along, is that why?”

“Yeah,” She admitted freely, “He never forgets I’m not really his kid. And now, the feeling’s pretty mutual.”

Finn genuinely couldn’t imagine how they all just live without talking about that, “And your Mom just pretends not to notice?”  
“It’s kind of a sore spot in their marriage, she didn’t tell him when I was born, it became obvious once I was about five.”

It defied explanation, “What do you mean, ‘she didn’t tell him’?”

Santana spoke as if she was talking about someone else’s life, “It’s hard to know what a kid will look like, she was afraid he’d leave her, babies are usually born lighter than they end up being.”

Finn didn’t know that.

Santana was nonchalant, given the personal nature of this conversation, “He figured it out, and they fought about it, and separated for about 2 years.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, but he came back, because he loves my brother’s, and my mom lets him get away with anything now, because of the guilt,” Santana confessed, “And she prefers the more comfortable lifestyle of being married to a doctor.”

“That sounds...” _like a really difficult living situation._

Santana’s voice was full of contempt, “I’m just the thing on the side he has to tolerate.”

“That sounds really bad,” He replied, trying to understand all the difficulties a homelife like that entails. “What about your _real_ dad, the sax player?” Finn asked.

“Donating sperm doesn’t make anyone a parent,” She snapped.

“So, he doesn’t care about you either?” Finn was trying to understand, but felt like he was maybe just making her feel worse.

“His band played Philly, like Junior Year, I remember it was right before Sectionals, I drove there to go see him.”

“Was he happy to see you?” Finn asked, “How long had it been since he’d seen you?”

“At the time, he knew my Mom was pregnant, and went off with his band, so he hypothetically knew of my existence, but I was going to actually meet him.”

“So, he didn’t really know about you?”

“I waited until after the set, and asked him if he remembered my mother, and he did. He recalled her pretty fondly. Then I told him about me, and he looked me up and down, and was like, ‘no way!’”

“And?”

“And nothing, it meant nothing to him really, his band moved on to another city, he gave me his number, but when I texted him, he didn’t text back.”

“Ouch!” Finn didn’t mean to say it aloud, but he had, “That really sucks!”

Santana just looked away, nodding her head despondently.

Finn had to know, “Did you tell your Mom or Britt what happened?”

She shook her head.

“Thank you for… you know, trusting me,” He pulled her into a big bear hug and she let him.

Santana showered, and Finn sat on the couch waiting for her. He didn’t think she’d want him to join her in her room this evening, and even though they had been sharing the bed for the last two weeks, it was still her room and he had to be invited.

When she came out, she asked him what he was doing. Waving him inside. Finn obliged and sat on the bed and waited. He expected they’d give it a rest tonight, which he was fine with because he was really tired.

“You know what we did after the reception,” She said nervously, “could you do that again.”

She laid flat on the bed, on top of the covers and pulled her pajama pants down, and her camisole off. Santana literally hadn’t let him be on top since, he recognized now that the post-reception shag had been a mercy fuck on her part. She’d let him do it his way to help him get his confidence back. And he was grateful she had. But she’d still enjoyed it, even if she didn’t like letting someone else control their motions.

Finn didn’t need to be asked twice. He did everything the same, except that he’d stripped off entirely before starting, since she was naked too. He pleasured her with his mouth, and had then gone to her breasts, and finally he laid on top of her and gently rocked them both to climax. He stayed lying on top of her afterwards, and she started to cry, and he just held her.

**))))))**

It took them about a week to find a good routine. Well, it wasn’t good, but it was workable. Finn would set the alarm for 5 am, they’d have sex, then work out. Usually a run, since neither of them could afford a gym membership, and Santana would help him go through his lines and he’d show her what he planned to do with whatever scene. Then he’d go to the studio for 7 am starts and Santana would roll over for another 2 -3 hours of sleep. At the moment he was doing 12-hour days. So he’d get home, eat the meal Santana or Mercedes made at midday or the night before depending on who was cooking, then he’d do the dishes in the sink, shower and go to bed for a couple of hours, then it’d be almost midnight and he’d go walk Santana home from the diner, and she’d shower and then they’d have sex and sleep in her bed. Santana had a much higher sex drive than he did, she pretty much needed to be satisfied twice a day every day or she got kind of antsy. He actually kind of liked their life right now. It was all new and exciting, and Santana wasn’t half as argumentative as he expected. So long as he pleased her, she was downright amiable.

The job itself was something else. With lots of sitting around in hair and make-up, which was really tedious, but still exhausting. And Finn still felt nervous all the time, even though the director was pretty happy with how the scenes were going. They showed him some dailies, and said that test audiences had reacted well to him, most saying they liked his wholesome good boy charm. It was a little less pressure too, daytime TV was kind of dramatic, but rarely had big ensemble scenes. His co-star, her name was Jennifer Flores, who’d gotten the role over Santana, she was nice, and they’d talk. He needed to find a way to convey that attraction on screen. He’d just visualize Santana. The actor who’d been in the show a year or so playing Spencer’s younger brother, Tyler, was an arrogant jackass and Finn wasn’t convinced the guy was acting, like at all. But he tried to just be polite and stay out of his way, which suited everyone, because as brothers they were meant to be chalk and cheese.

Marisol and Spencer and their slowly building romance is who the audience were supposed to root for, with Tyler and Alan being the arrogant and sleezy entitled ones that were constantly putting Marisol in difficult positions that Spencer would find a way to rescue her from, while their mother who runs the family is quite oblivious to all the internal dynamics and sexual tension. It wasn’t amazing TV, but he could see why it was addictive for some people. There were plenty of other storylines going on as well.

Santana kept looking for auditions and kept trying to get an agent, but without drama school on your resume, they weren’t too interested. She got the CSI job though, it was only 2 scenes, but still!

“Dead stripper number 2” She announced mockingly, “That’s my part.”

“CSI’s a really big show,” Finn reminded her, “lots of people watch it on prime time, you only need the right person to see it.”

“See me screaming then lying dead,” She shot back, unimpressed.

“If you’ve got two minutes,” Finn said, “then make the most of those two minutes, you said it yourself, it’s hard to play a good dead body,” He reminded her, “so be the best damn dead body you can be, and maybe someone will notice.”

Santana was faux annoyed at his Mr Schue impersonation, “Has anyone ever told you that your optimism makes them want to hurl?”

“Nope,” Finn smiled, “it’s just your cynicism talking.”

She flicked some rice at him, right off the end of her fork, like a little kid. It was Sunday and they were sitting down to a midday meal, since Santana would be working at dinner time. He often went to the diner for dinner on Sunday night now, just to spend time with her, and because he could afford it since his new job.

“When does it film?”

“In three weeks’ time. It’s just three days’ work.”

“Still,” Finn said, “now you’ll have real working actor credits on your resume.”

“We should join the Screen Actors’ Guild,” She said.

“So, you can win a SAG award one day?” Finn asked, not understanding why she mentioned that.

Santana looked at him, like she thought that was a weird thing to say, “I was thinking more about having our working rights protected, but sure, that too.”

“You’re so smart,” Finn said, knowing his face looked all loved up.

A moment later he was leaning over the table, and she had hold of his shirt collar and they were making out like love-sick teenagers across the table. Even Mercedes had told them to take it to their room, this morning when they were doing similar in her presence.

The door bell went and Finn answered it, doing a double take at who was standing on the doorstep.

“Hi Finn,” She said, looking happy to see him, but also nervous in a sweet way, “Miss me?”

“Rachel!”


	8. Blindsided

_Rachel’s here._

_Fuck!_

Finn was speechless, even though she’d been warning him since the start that this was going to happen… like _exactly_ this.

“What are you doing here?” Finn’s register went up like he was having his prostate checked.

He glanced at Santana, looking jumpy and guilty as fuck, even though she knew he hadn’t invited Berry.

“I heard about the good news… the soap opera,” Rachel said, seemingly proud.

Which only made Santana hate her more. Y _ou know exactly what you’re here to do, Mariah-in-training. So, don’t play nice!_ Santana mocked the Diva in her head, _‘Oh, look at me in my New York fashion, pretending I’m not here to convince Finn to dump you, Santana’._

She glared at Rachel with her best stink eye, not that Prima Donna had even noticed her yet. She continued her silent commentary of what Berry was really thinking, _‘I’m pretending I am willing to not make everything about me, since it didn’t work out when Finn refused to give up every single piece of his identity to be nothing more than my boyfriend. Who else is going to stroke my massive ego now and hold my purse?’_

Finn stepped aside to let Rachel into the apartment.

“Congratulations, that’s amazing,” She said, pulling him into a hug, trying to cling to him and take in his scent.

Santana felt so mad, she could feel her teeth grinding. She glared with crossed arms, hoping to incinerate the Hobbit with her hatred. Finn looked like he longed for her embrace too.

_FUCK YOU BOTH!!!!_

He still looked like he was about to wet himself though, “If you know about that… then Kurt must have told you about my _other_ news.”

“That you’re dating… _her_ ,” Berry sounded unimpressed.

“Yeah,” Finn said quietly, clearly feeling super self-conscious.

_The Streisand Wannabe hasn’t taken her eyes off Finn, if she had, she’d have noticed me sitting at the meals table._

Berry finally came into the living room, and they locked eyes for the first time since that huge blow out fight they’d had. Rachel did a double take. Santana could literally feel her breasts aching with rage.

“ _Hell_ to the no!” Santana said getting up and confronting Rachel, “you’re not welcome here!”

And Berry’s ugly fucking face turned all sad puppy dog, appealing to Finn to save her, “I’m not here to fight.”

Santana couldn’t believe Finn wasn’t doing anything about this. _MAKE HER LEAVE!!!!_

Rachel was all fake sweet, “When Mercedes moved here, she told me to come visit her some time,” She shrugged politely like a fucking girl scout! “I just decided to take her up on the offer.”

“Oh, yeah right!” Santana scoffed, “You found out Finn and I are dating and you’re here to convince him it’s a terrible idea!”

Rachel somehow managed to look affronted, even though Santana’s comment was dead on. Finn was still just at a loss about what to do, and that pissed the hell out of Santana.

Finn tried abysmally to calm the situation. “Let’s just be civil,” He said.

But, to make matters worse he looked at Santana in an accusatory way, as if _she_ was the problem here, and not _FUCKING_ Rachel ‘Diva’ Berry!

Rachel nodded, putting up her hands in truce, “Okay.”

Santana’s head was about to explode, she hoped her intense frustration was somehow telepathically making it to Finn’s brain and he’d get it _. She’s the one who just showed up here, because she wants you back! She’s been fine for nearly **ten months** with you being miserable while she dates that fucking mannequin. But the second Diva-from-Hell knows you’re dating me and might actually be happy and staying in L.A., now she hurries the fuck over here!!!_

_Seriously, Lumps?_

_SERIOUSLY!!!!_

“Rachel, how about we take a walk,” Finn suggested.

Santana thought about warning him that if he cheated on her she’d cut his balls off. But she honestly couldn’t see the point. Finn hadn’t given her a sniff when Berry was around in high school. He would forget her like yesterday’s news the moment Drama Queen batted her fake eyelashes at him.

_‘Words don’t even begin to cover how I feel about Rachel’_ Finn had actually said those words to Santana in senior year, describing his underlying love for the most selfish bitch alive.

Santana couldn’t stand to be in that room a moment longer. She stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door. Then she fell onto the bed face first, letting the mattress whack her face.

_I’ve lost him._

Not long after, he knocked on the door and waited. She didn’t respond. Finn came in anyway, shifting his weight between his feet, looking somewhat apologetic.

“Hey,” Finn looked all innocent and naïve and shit. He smiled, but she wasn’t impressed. “I’m as blindsided by this as you are,” He said earnestly.

And Santana knew that was true, but it was also true that Finn was never going pick her bitchy ass over Berry.

_Never. Gonna. Happen._

Finn continued to try and soothe her, to no avail, “I didn’t invite her here.”

_Then tell her to leave!_

Santana snapped, “She’s not staying here! We’re crammed in enough as it is.” She glared at him, to leave him in no doubt that _that_ was final.

“Agreed,” Finn tried to appease her, “You need to trust me.”

Santana put her headphones in and resigned herself to the fact that their brief moment of… _whatever the fuck this had been_ , was over.

‘Oh, you think you get to be all happy and content and shit, Little Girl!’ Sometimes she could hear her father’s voice saying it to her.

Santana laid on the bed facing away from him. She found _Jagged Little Pill_ on her iPod and turned up track 2. It was her angry jam. Just hearing Alanis’ voice was cathartic.

_‘I want you to know, that I’m happy for you,_

_And I wish nothing but the best for you both_

_An older version of me_

_Is she perverted like me?_

_Would she go down on you in a theatre?_

_Does she speak eloquently?  
And will she have your baby?_

_I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother’_

Finn knew enough to know not to disturb her now.

“I’m just going to be around the corner,” He spoke hesitantly to her back, “Rachel and I are only going to talk.”

She pretended she couldn’t hear him. _You were supposed to be different._ She turned up the volume. Alanis’ nasal sound filled her ears.

_‘‘Cause the love that you gave that we made_

_Wasn’t able to make it enough for you_

_To be open wide, no_

_And every time you speak her name_

_Does she know how you told me_

_You’d hold me until you died,_

_‘Til you died, but you’re still alive_

_And I’m here to, remind you_

_Of the mess you left when you went away_

_It’s not fair to deny me_

_Of the cross I bear that you gave to me_

_You, you, you oughta know!’_

Santana heard the door jam click. Finn was gone. She felt a heaviness pressing on her chest _, Just when I was starting to really like you..._

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Finn POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

“How about you give me the tour?” Rachel suggested sweetly.

Finn said, “Maybe later.”

Because Rachel seemed okay right now, but she probably wouldn’t be once she realized he and Santana were sharing a room, meaning effectively living together as a couple. And therefore, their relationship was past anything he and Rachel had done in their year and a half of dating all up.

“There’s a pizza place around the corner,” Finn suggested.

Rachel nodded, “Sounds good.”

They walked, and Rachel went to take his arm, but Finn didn’t allow it. 

“So, was Santana just visiting you right now?” Rachel inquired trying to sound casual, “I thought it was just you and Mercedes living there.”

“No, she lives there too,” He admitted.

Rachel’s face reacted as if she felt betrayed.

“How long do you plan to be in L.A. for?” Finn redirected the conversation.

“I’m not sure yet,” Rachel said noncommittedly, as if that answer depended on him.

Finn knew she wasn’t going to be happy that he was putting down roots in L.A., and his choice of girlfriend, but just showing up like this… “Did Mercedes know you were coming?”

“I thought I’d surprise you all,” She said, nonchalant as if she had no idea what the problem was.

Finn needed to say something, “After we agreed to no contact and space?”

“ _You_ agreed,” Rachel retorted sounding hurt.

He figured he deserved that.

“How’ve you been?” Finn asked, taking the high road.

“Awful,” Rachel sounded overly dramatic. “All the accolades I earned from my Winter Showcase win were lost in this singing duel I did with Kurt.”

Kurt had already told Finn about it, but he wanted to hear Rachel tell it her way.

“Ms July still hates me,” And Rachel took a deep breath before blurting out, “Brody and I broke up.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I know, Kurt told me.” He didn’t bother saying he was sorry to hear that, because he wasn’t and it would only sound dishonest.

“But the worst thing is…” Rachel turned towards him, “how much I miss you, every minute of every second of every day.”

Finn couldn’t help but feel that flutter. He’d wanted nothing more than those words for so long. They were Finchel and they were epic. They were meant to be everything to each other forever…

Rachel looked at him, full of love and longing, “Nothing works without you with me,” She urged, “I need you by my side, Finn.”

Finn wasn’t sure what to do. All he wanted two short months ago was for Rachel to make some gesture to show that she was willing to meet him halfway. And now she kind of was, not that she was willing to rearrange anything in her life to come this way, but still, she was here. He was sure he’d wanted to marry her forever not long ago.... And not only hadn’t they, but they had grown apart so quickly.

“I’ve got a job here now, Rachel,” Finn explained, “Don’t make me feel bad for going after what I want.”

Rachel went to say something then stopped.

Finn was so excited about it, he couldn’t contain himself, “A real acting job! Maybe it’s only going to be a few episodes, but even still, I landed a role with no drama school behind me, and after this I will have experience…”

“And I’m happy for you,” Her voice was measured.

Finn directed her in, since they were now at Joe’s Pizza Place. It was a very casual neighborhood place, with surprisingly nice food. Finn loved woodfire pizzas, and that doughy smell that wafted out of those ovens. The place had these bottles with like woven basket things that the glass wine bottles sat in, it was something authentic and Italian he thought. There were plastic runners of Italian flags framing the roof. He found a booth, and they sat facing one another.

Finn needed for her to understand, “The director already told me, the test audiences have responded well to me.”

“What does that mean?”  
Finn gushed, “They want to make my part bigger, they’re going to rewrite parts so my character stays in town.”

“That’s wonderful,” She said in a monotone.

Finn wasn’t letting anything get him down though, “I was supposed to play guitar in the second episode, but when they heard me sing, they changed it so that I will play guitar and sing. I am going to be on TV singing!”

“That’s amazing!” Rachel said holding back tears.

“I’m really happy, Rachel,” He hoped she could at least try to be happy for him, “New York didn’t feel right for me, I was just your boyfriend there.” Finn was proud of his accomplishment, “Here, I’m… gonna be me.”

Rachel looked like she wanted to run off. They were silent a while. Finn didn’t know what to do, because he hated to hurt her feelings. He stood up, got menus, poured over what to order, while stealing glances at the woman he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with less than a year ago.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Santana found the last remaining lesbian bar in L.A., The Palms in West Hollywood. Early afternoon on a Sunday wasn’t exactly a good time to meet women though. She just wanted to be in a woman’s arms, to be kissing a woman, tasting her.

_Fuck you, Berry!_

_And fuck you, Mama’s Boy!_

She ordered a shot of Tequila with the salt and the lemon to start with, then a vodka and diet soda to chase it with.

The bartender was hot, with her head shaved on one side and a heap of tatts on an athletic body. She had a silver septum ring, she appeared mixed race, and darker than Santana with medium brown eyes. She looked about 30 and was about the only prospect in the whole joint.

Santana kept drinking and flirting with her, her name was Sian.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Finn POV )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Their food arrived. A gluten free, vegetarian pizza with no cheese. Also, known as a ‘why did I even bother ordering pizza’ Finn joked in his head. Rachel always ordered like this, and he’d never stopped thinking it was hilarious. He took a slice of his stringy Hawaiian pizza and started munching away. They’d hit a long patch of silence since ordering, he was giving her time to process everything.

Rachel decided to change tact, “So, a big city isn’t the problem after all?” She stated, with reproach in her voice, “You seem to be finding your feet here okay.” She glanced up at him, “ _More_ than okay.”

“Yeah, L.A.’s… not as scary as I thought it would be,” He acknowledged, “I don’t know if it’s because Mercedes was already set up here before I arrived, or…” _Santana’s been helping run my life for me…_ He knew he shouldn’t say that out loud so he didn’t.

“Then why couldn’t you have lived with me in New York?” She asked.

_We’re doing this._

“It’s completely different,” He said, “L.A. was what I wanted for myself, the right kind of acting. New York is your dream, Rachel.”

“I thought being with _me_ was your dream,” She replied, her voice breaking just a hint.

Finn thought long and hard, not about what the problem was, he was already becoming clear on that with the space, but Finn still wasn’t sure how to say it to her.

“Rachel,” He began tentatively, “Sometimes… it just feels like you already have everything mapped out.” Finn struggled to put it into words, “And I feel like… I’m just the guy you want with you while you do it all.”

“That’s not fair!” Rachel rebutted, he’d clearly hit a nerve, “I was planning a life with both of us, for us to grow together.”

He sighed, “But only if it’s doing everything you want to do, and me supporting you, Rachel.”

“So, you’re jealous?” Rachel snapped, with that look that he expected to be followed with an accusatory finger and a yelp of ‘treason’, as if this thing she’d always feared was now true, “I thought you were different!”

“Rachel!” Finn felt flustered, _you don’t get it_! He knew this was going to be difficult. Finn took a few deep breaths to compose himself, “I think it’s awesome you are sure about what you want. You seem to have known from the time you could talk. And you’re _so_ talented and hard-working, I know you’ll get there. I love that about you.”

Rachel seemed confused now, “Then what’s the problem? We can get there together.”

He lost his cool, “There’s no _room_ for me in your world!” Even his hands made an angry ‘it’s hopeless’ gesture he didn’t intend to do.

Rachel was wounded by his assertion, “That’s not true,” She said quietly, her body retreating from him slightly.

Finn felt bad for yelling, he wanted to explain himself, “Just because I haven’t figured it all out yet, doesn’t mean finding my passion isn’t as important as yours.”

“You can find your passion in New York.”

He tried to make her see, “No, I can’t… not with you, because my stuff will always be second.”

“No, it wouldn’t, Finn,” Rachel disagreed.

“Just listen to me,” Finn fought to express himself, “How am I going to figure it out in New York with you being too busy for me all the time? Putting everything you’ve got into every class, audition, showcase that NYADA and Broadway can offer you?”

Rachel stopped, she wasn’t sure what to say, “I’ll make time to help you.”

But Finn shook his head, “I end up being the guy who helps you practice your lines, or picks up your sheet music or makes your tea,” He tried to explain. “Because you always want it so badly, and I can’t help but support you. But it means I _always_ pass myself over for you,” Finn really hoped that she would really hear him.

Rachel looked as if she’d been slapped in the face.

“So, you agree with Santana that I’m a selfish diva who will suck the life out of you.”

Finn was taken aback, “Santana said that to you?”

Rachel didn’t really answer him, she got up, “Not in those words.”

Rachel glanced back at him, as if she was looking at him for the first and last time. Then her chest seized and her hand instantly covered a sob trying to escape her lips, and she fled dramatically, setting off the bell above the door as she desperately escaped into the sunlight beyond.

_I really wish that had gone better._

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

“Girlfriend trouble?” Sian finally asked, after about an hour.

Snixx was well on her way to smashed by then.

“Kind of,” She said.

Santana didn’t want to elaborate, because she barely had her head around dating a guy after going through all that crap to accept that she was a lesbian, only to have Finn fuck with her head again. And it seemed like a sin to admit to having a boyfriend in a lesbian bar of all places, like she didn’t get to belong here anymore, either.

Santana decided to explain, but lie about the pronouns, “My girlfriend’s ex just found out we started dating about a month ago, hopped a plane from New York to try and win her back.”

Sian nodded, “Sounds rough.”

Snixx licked the salt. This was her third Tequila shot.

“It is,” Santana said before downing the clear liquid and letting it burn her throat. She sucked the lemon. “There’s all this history between them…” Santana started to say, “I’m about to get dumped.”

“So, you are hoping to lick your wounds… so to speak?” Sian asked knowingly, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Santana’s response was a slow ‘come fuck me’ look, she’d perfected years earlier. _I want to lick something._

Sian appeared to be considering it. She came back over with the Tequila. Snixx indicated to just leave the whole bottle.

Santana reached out to cover the bartender’s hand with her own, “So Sian, you got a break coming up?”

Snixx did her best slow, look all the way down Sian’s rockin’ form, starting at her eyes, down down eventually to Sian’s boots and back up again not missing a thing. From the Santana Lopez school of ‘eye sex’ foreplay. And then she waited. The hot bartender smiled deviously.

))))))

Santana held Sian’s wrist and led her into the bathroom. But far from Sian being the tentative one, she pulled Santana into her and began kissing her, without abandon. She tasted like cigarettes and gum, but she was a very good kisser. _I’d forgotten how good this feels!_ Within moments, Sian had hoisted her up on the counter next to the basins, and stood between Santana’s spread legs, making short work of her top half of layers. She was naked from the waist up shortly thereafter and Sian was massaging her tits, thumbing her nipples, while still kissing her like she needed her mouth for dear life. Santana just went with it.

Her own hands began a ministration of their own, pulling up the olive green tank top, enough to work on Sian’s skate belt with a big silver clasp, holding up her baggy black jeans. She had a tattoo beside her left hip of an infinity symbol. The waistband of her Bonds undies was showing.

And she remembered Finn laughing at a joke at the reception about Bond’s undies. _Finn._ Santana pushed him from her mind. _Fuck you!_

This place was really dingy. There were posters for indy rock gigs, and vagina monologues, and empowering permaculture seminars, and poetry slams, and roller derby competitions. On top of graffiti, with women arguing in black marker with the woman who’d asked if it was okay to cut yourself. 

Sian’s other hand left Santana’s mini skirt for now, instead starting to stroke the crotch of her panties. _God, I’ve missed this._ Santana closed her eyes and was letting her arousal just wash over her. Her panties were soaked through in no time.

And then Finn’s face entered her mind. _Is he different?_ _Should I wait to see what he will do_? Rachel obviously wasn’t going to move to L.A., and Finn had a job here. But she didn’t want him to be with her because it was convenient. She wanted for him to be with her because he wanted her. For him to adore her. That was one of the things she liked most about… whatever they were, she felt cared about. That was one of the main things Brittany offered her, a feeling Santana had never been able to get enough of. And Finn really took cheating seriously. He’d broken up with Rachel in Junior Year over a kiss.

Did she really want to blow them up, without even giving him a chance to make a decision? But she just felt it was so hopeless…

_‘I won’t let you close enough to hurt me, no I won’t let you… you’d have just desert_ me’ Santana remembered Holly singing Adele at the Night of Neglect.

Santana had stopped doing anything, and Sian was the one doing the caressing now, under Santana’s very short mini skirt. Santana felt Sian’s finger slip inside her. And then she felt really guilty.

“I can’t do this,” Santana said so quietly, she wasn’t sure if she’d only said it in her head.

But she must have said it out loud, because Sian stopped. To her credit, the hot bartender didn’t look all that surprised, “Go home, talk to your girl, tell her how you feel,” She spoke knowingly.

Santana sat up and nodded, like a child, because she didn’t know what else to do, and started finding her clothes.

Sian placed a hand on her shoulder, “Trust me. It feels way better than lying and a cheating.”

“Thanks for being cool about this.” Santana said, feeling a big lump in her throat. The last thing she expected was random understanding from a stranger.

“Been there,” Was all Sian said as she retreated from the bathroom, zipping up her fly and fixing her shirt and crop top. She glanced at herself in the mirror, adjusted her ring, and said, “But you know, if you do end things for good, by all means, come back.” She shot Santana a suggestive look and swaggered out.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Finn POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

She finally came back at 5:40, leaving them precious little time to talk. Santana clearly didn’t want to discuss Rachel being there, she was jumpy and immediately locked herself in the bathroom. Finn decided to take advantage of the fact that she couldn’t run away from him in there, and came up to the door to talk to her. But he heard the shower turn on. _She has to be at work in 20 minutes!_

He waited, once the water was off, he raised his voice above the ceiling fan, “I think we should talk.”

She came out moments later dressed in only a towel.

“Just do it already!” She exploded.

Finn didn’t understand. “Do what?”

“Break up with me!” She crossed her arms defensively looking ready to hit something, “we both know you’re going to.”

Now Finn was the one who was shocked. Santana promptly went into their room. She was still fuming, all her movements were so aggressive. She snatched her waitress ensemble off the hanger. She didn’t care he was watching her change from completely naked and angrily zipped her boots.

“Rachel’s not staying,” Finn offered, “I told her I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah, well, the joke’s on you,” She snapped. She went back into the bathroom, but she left the door open this time. “Because I’m just going to leave you for the first hot woman I find anyway!”

Finn smiled. For all the lesbian jokes and digs she made about cheating on him, Santana hadn’t so much as checked out a woman that he’d noticed. And her anger at Rachel’s arrival only just confirmed that she didn’t want their relationship to end.

She stood at the basin, looking first at herself then at him through his reflection in the mirror. She still looked ready to explode and her body language said ‘back off’. Finn slowly came up behind her, calmly, hoping she wouldn’t slap him away.

“Santana,” Finn came up behind her, “I know this is still pretty new, and I’m trying to go slow and not freak you out, but I want you to know, you make me really happy.”

He was right up at her back now, he leaned against her.

She looked at him through the reflection, and that he clearly meant every word and then her face looked pained. She turned to push past him, clearly wanting to be away. Finn held her waist, getting her to physically stop.

“I like this life we’re carving out for ourselves,” He said, lifting her chin up so he could make her look at how much he meant it.

But she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Santana was silent for a few beats. She was shaking.

“I cheated on you,” She suddenly blurted out, “with a woman… this afternoon,” She sounded ready to cry, then began to run away.

_What?!_

“Why would you do that?” Finn lost it.

He could see the tears in her eyes. “Now you don’t need to feel bad when you inevitably leave me for her,” She spat bitterly.

And somehow, _she_ was the one that sounded pissed.

Finn couldn’t hide his anger, “I just told Rachel to back off because we’re happy!” Finn exploded, “What the _fuck_ , Santana!”

Santana just shrugged, “I tried to warn you.” As if this was just what she did and he had to accept it if he wanted to be with her.

And with that she left.

Finn wanted to kick something or throw something.

_I can’t **fucking** believe this shit!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is 'You oughta know' by Alanis Morrissette off _Jagged Little Pill_


	9. You didn't think this through

Literally minutes after Santana had run off to work having dropped a bomb on Finn, Puck walked in the door.

“Dude, you okay?”

Finn just stood there, rooted to the spot. He finally stated, “No.”

“What’s up?”

“I can’t,” Finn shook his head. He just felt so mad and ashamed.

“You wanna go for a ride on my hog?” Puck asked.

Finn took a moment to understand the question. _His bike._

))))))))))))))

Finn had to sit in the side car. He was far too tall for it, so his knees were literally up against his chest. He was worried about the whole thing toppling over. It didn’t. They went to the Hollywood Hills to get above the city. From there they could look down on all the lights. They created a shimmering effect now that it was dark.

Finn was feeling rather light on friends. If Finn talked to Kurt, he’d tell Rachel. And if he talked to Mercedes, she’d probably tell Kurt, who’d tell Rachel. Puck had literally cheated with two of his girlfriends, but he knew Santana pretty well, so his advice might be useful. 

“How goes the pool cleaning?” Finn said, because he wasn’t ready to _talk_ talk yet.

“It’s going, no shortage of pools, or hot mamas for that matter,” Puck joked, “I just wish I had more time for music though. I ploughed this chick the other day… oh man!”

Finn didn’t really want to hear the rest of that story, “Are you gonna get your own place soon?”

Puck seemed a bit disappointed, “I’ve got the money saved, but living on your own is pretty expensive, you know, security deposit and stuff, and then all the bills by myself…”

It was the first time Finn had given it serious thought, “Are you looking for a housemate?”

“Well, yeah,” Puck said, surprised, “Did you finally get sick of Santana’s mood swings?”

That simple question hung in the air. Finn focused on the glittering lights below, trying to hold it all in.

Puck waited, pulling out a hip flask of some kind of booze, and taking a long skull before offering it to Finn _. I hope he hadn’t had too much of that before he drove us here!_ He felt confident in his refusal. Then again, maybe he could use some liquid courage.

“Santana cheated on me,” Finn finally exclaimed.

“Yeah, and?” Puck’s tone suggested that was inevitable, “the ocean is wet.”

_He’s stating the obvious._

“I know we haven’t been seeing each other very long,” Finn admitted, his frustration evident, “and Santana won’t admit she’s my girlfriend, but it’s still serious between us.”

“Santana’s hot but she’s a handful, Dude,” Puck just gave him the bro back pat, as if to say ‘my condolences’, “I used to just ignore her bullshit or apologize if I thought I’d get crazy hot make-up sex out of it.”

“But you two were never serious,” Finn pointed out.

“Santana approaches everything like she’s expecting everyone to fuck her over.”

“But I didn’t… fuck her over,” Finn stated.

“What happened right before the cheating?” Puck asked.

It all clicked for Finn, “Rachel showed up from New York, unannounced… Santana flew off the handle.”

Puck pointed out, “Santana’s the ultimate, ‘fuck you over before you can fuck her over.”

That did make sense. _She thought I was going to break-up with her, so she made it on her terms._

“How did you find out she cheated?” Puck asked.

“She just told me,” Finn detailed.

He explained how Rachel had just shown up and things got tense and he’d told Santana they were only going to talk, then she was out when he got back after telling Rachel that he was happy and staying here. 

Puck looked incredulous, “Are you sure she actually did cheat on you?” He smiled wryly, “that wasn’t a big window of time, she’s probably just sayin’ she did to see what you’ll do.”

Finn was flabbergasted, “You think she’d do that?”

Puck continued, “If you dump her, she’ll probably conclude you are too sensitive for her or whatever…”

“So, this is a head game?”

“Probably, Dude.”

Finn didn’t want to be with someone who’d do stuff like that. Make up shit just to hurt him. But he really didn’t think Santana was like that, underneath it all. Finn was feeling more hopeless by the minute, “What do I do?”

Puck told him straight, “Santana’s a controlling bitch. Either give her the reins or bow out now!”

 _Let her hook up with random women whenever she wants._ Finn concluded, “I can’t let her walk all over me,”

“Why do you think it worked out so well between Santana and Brittany,” Puck sounded amused by their relationship, “Brittany’s so away with the birds she can barely function.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Brittany’s Santana’s child as much as she was ever her girlfriend.” Puck just shrugged, “Santana’s gonna boss you around,” before adding, “but you seem to like that.”

No doubt Puck meant that he’d just replaced Rachel with Santana.

Puck stood with the heir of someone who thought he was wise, clapping Finn on the back, “You can’t screw the same girl for over a year and not learn anything about her.”

Finn didn’t feel optimistic, “Do you think she can change?” Finn asked.

Puck thought on that carefully, and then just shrugged.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

It had only taken about a week for Santana to detest working at Spotlight Diner. At first it was fun-ish. The outfit was sexy and getting to sing while at work was novel. Now, all Santana could think was that it was cosmic payback for all her antics as a spoiled high schooler, sending dishes back to the kitchen and being generally rude to wait staff. _This is hell!_ Either, customers took their shitty day or shitty food out on you, _like I made it, asshole!_ Or somehow, the sleezy old men mistook this place for a brothel and thought it was okay to squeeze her ass when she dropped off their food. But she had to constantly hold her tongue, because she needed this stupid job. And the pay was triflingly inadequate for all the abuse she had to take. 

Today it was all of that times a million. Santana felt so heavy and so tired. At least tomorrow was her one day off. Five more minutes, and this shift that never seemed to end would be over. And then what?

She’d fucked everything up with the kindest guy that had ever lived. And now Santana Lopez had no one to blame but herself.

_He told Rachel to back off. For me!_

She liked being with Finn. She liked feeling cared about. Finn left her in no doubt that he cared. She felt wrapped up in his warmth just being near him, to her it was an intoxicating feeling, and something that had always drawn her to Brittany.

 _Fucking idiot!_ She admonished herself. Then Santana wanted to kick something.

And then Finn walked through the door of the diner. Santana couldn’t believe her eyes, blinking just to make sure. He didn’t say anything, he just waited. _He’s still here to walk me home, after everything?_ Santana couldn’t understand it.

_Or he’s here to break up with me._

She felt her stomach lurch. She slowed down, feeling light headed as she sorted the last of her duties. She told Craig in the kitchen she was off and put her coat on and grabbed her bag. She went and got the leftover food she was taking home that evening and offered Finn the baggy of chocolate cake, a measly peace offering. Finn was caught by surprise and so just accepted it. They began the walk back to the apartment together, but not arm in arm as they usually were. But still side by side. Silent.

Santana felt nervous with every step, her gut was turning, like she was taking her final walk to the guillotine. _If you’re gonna do it, just do it already._

Santana had long since worked out that Finn walking her home was about his concerns for her safety, not sex, since he was so much less sexual than any teenage boy had any reason to be. Stuff like that pissed her off, like she couldn’t take care of herself! But, he didn’t act all controlling about it. And now that he wasn’t working here, it was their special alone time. He’d ask about her day and she’d ask about his. The fact that she’d just stomped on him, for no good reason really, and he was still here, just made her feel worse. 

And now all she felt was a deep sense of regret. _I fucked this up, big time._

She waited for the inevitable.

When they were almost home, Finn finally spoke, “I know Rachel coming here was a shock, and you’re feeling like you don’t matter to me,” Finn said, with that sincerity that the world didn’t seem to be able to beat out of him.

Santana felt so guilty. _Don’t be nice to me._

“Did you really cheat on me?” Finn suddenly asked, “Or were you just trying to hurt me by saying you did?”

Was he giving her an out? If she said she made it up, would he forgive her and take her back and they could move on? Did she want to have to lie to him every day though?

Santana felt too guilty to be convincing. _I’m sorry._ _Please don’t leave._

But she couldn’t say it. Her whole chest felt tight, like she was in a room and the walls were pressing in from all sides. She didn’t need to look at Finn’s face, he knew she had. And he felt mad.

As soon as they were inside she disappeared into the bathroom. Finn was going to wait up, no doubt he wanted to have ‘the talk’. And all Santana could think was delay, delay, delay.

When she finally came out. He was still sitting on the couch, as she knew he would be.

“Please…” Santana said, “just not tonight,” She sounded as defeated as she felt.

Finn looked disappointed, but he didn’t press the issue. Proving once again, what a good guy he was.

 _I am such a fucking idiot!_ She kept berating herself.

And then she just felt so tired. Weighed down by it all. She deliberately didn’t set her alarm, so she’d miss him going off to work in the morning.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Mercedes POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Rachel sat down at the small table outside at the café not far from Mercedes’ flat in Lincoln Heights. It was Monday mid-morning, and Mercedes had found time to squeeze in a quick coffee.

Rachel launched straight into her justification for her sudden arrival, “I just realized I hadn’t taken you up on the offer to visit, and with Finn’s good news about the job… well, it just felt like the right time.”

_Ummm hmmmm…. Nothing to do with you finding out Finn and Santana are dating…_

“How’s NYADA?” I ask.

“Well, since the Winter Showcase everything’s amazing! People just look at me different, like… they can see my star quality now.”

_Kurt did say you’ve been unbearable!_

“That’s an _amazing_ accomplishment, Rachel,” and I really do mean that on my part, “Kurt told me it’s rare for a freshman to even perform, let alone win.”

Rachel can’t help but gloat, “I’m the first freshman to _ever_ win it, in its _entire_ history.”

_Okay, fine! You do deserve bragging rights. I’ll humor you for 15 minutes. Then I’m cutting you off!!!_

“Tell me about it,” I ask, and I really do listen, because as much as she drives me nuts, Rachel is very talented.

“Well, first Carmen hand delivered the invitation herself, I was in dance class… the class run by Broadway train wreck Cassie July, I hate her, so it was _so_ satisfying to be presented with that honor right in front of her,” Rachel begins her narrative in excruciating detail.

 _I know 15 minutes isn’t nearly enough time now_.

Rachel is oblivious, “She’s kind of like a drunken Santana and Sue morphed together,” She comments, “In that she actually enjoys humiliating her students.”

_Santana is my friend, or have you forgotten?_

I zone in and out, but the main thing is Rachel sang… the crowd went wild… and she did an encore…. Kurt tells this story differently, Rachel forgets to even mention Kurt’s performance, you know the one that got him accepted to NYADA.

And then for kicks I check my watch and start timing how long it will take for her to ask me a single question about myself. _God give me strength._

“…so that’s how I won the Winter Showcase,” Rachel says.

_45 minutes later!_

My double expresso arrived, I drank it, I ordered a second one and now I’ve just finished that one.

“That’s really impressive, Rachel, I’m so happy for you.”

And I do mean it, it’s a big deal. On the other hand, I’m remembering why I never hang out with Rachel without Kurt. Because I _need_ buffer!

“I can’t believe Finn landed that job so fast!” Rachel says.

At least she has moved onto the real reason she’s here; spying on Finn and Santana.

Rachel continues, ignorant to my thoughts about her actions.

“I mean, he hasn’t even been here very long, and never really taken an acting class, it’s amazing to get such a big break so quickly.”

_Don’t even pretend you are here to see me or ask about my recording contract!_

“Yeah, he’s talented, I guess the casting director could see it,” I say.

Because Finn is doing well. I wasn’t sure he was hard enough to survive the reel ‘em in and spit ‘em out mentality that is Hollywood, but I’m thrilled he’s proving me wrong so far. “There’s talk his part is going to be extended, apparently he’s been impressing the right people.”

“That’s so good, so he’ll be staying here longer,” Rachel’s mouth says, but she doesn’t look in the slightest bit happy about that. “And Santana?” Rachel asks, “Is she working yet?”

“At the diner mostly, but I think she’s getting murdered on CSI soon.”

“Can’t wait to see it!” Rachel’s comment is probably meant to be snide, but I let it go. I might hate the girl who dated my ex, especially if I already didn’t like her beforehand.

“It’s filming in two weeks, it won’t be on TV for months probably.”

“Finn and Santana…” Rachel’s tone is catty, “I feel like hell has frozen over…”

I think someone needs to be straight with her, “Finn seems better than he’s been in a long time, he’s got his confidence back.”

“How long have they been… together?” She asks.

“Pretty much since he got to L.A.” I tell her the truth. She deserves that much.

Rachel was clearly afraid that was the answer.

“How serious is it?” Rachel is clearly afraid of the answer.

“They do lots of stuff together,” I freely admit. “I don’t think I could stand to see another person that much. But, I guess Brittany and Santana used to do everything together, so maybe she likes that?”

My words only seem to pain Rachel further.  
“And Finn?” Rachel is quick to redirect me, “They don’t fight? Or get on each others' nerves?”

“Sure, they have little arguments, like all couples do,” I tell her but I feel the need to defend my friends too, “But they seem pretty solid to me… obviously Finn is worried about…”

“Worried about what?”

“Being too intense… we all know Santana afraid of commitment, so he’s trying not to scare her off _.” I’ve said too much, Rachel isn’t here to come to terms with them dating._ _What_ _she wants is to know where the cracks are, so she can break them up._

“Rachel,” I try to fix it as best I can, “Finn is good, if you want what’s best for him, then do what he asked, give him time and space.”

Her face says she thinks that the worst news she’s ever heard.

I continue with my guidance, not that I expect she will listen, at all, “I think for now you need to… let it be. He’s good.”

_Listening to me would imply Rachel accepts that I know better than her._

“I just didn’t expect…” She says absently, “it to hurt this much.”

“Because he’s moving on, or because it’s Santana?” I _ask._

Because I think Rachel needs to examine her motives. They’ve been broken up a while, she’s been living with a boyfriend, it seems petty to begrudge him the same. But then, it’s Rachel so who knows.

“Santana’s just so… and he’s so…” Rachel begins, her shock at the whole thing evident, “It was bad enough when I thought it was just sex, but this…”

I shrug, “Like I said, they both seem happy, Rachel.”

“Doesn’t she walk all over him?” Rachel isn’t letting it go though, “Santana can beat you up with her words, at the drop of a hat, I can’t imagine Finn being able to take it.”

“Santana doesn’t attack people she loves…” I say, before I immediately regret my word choice. “We all get along really well, even when Puck drops by, no one is attacking anybody,” I try to cover what I said by bringing everyone else in.

Rachel looks disappointed and so sad, and I don’t have any sugar to coat this spoonful of medicine with.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Rachel exclaims, having realized herself.

_You’re just realizing this!_

“I think I’m gonna go,” Rachel excuses herself dramatically so she can go cry somewhere.

_Good. She needs to accept that it’s over for now._

I’m left sitting by myself.

“And how are you, Mercedes?” I say out loud to no one, “And that album you are writing, how’s that going?” Because if I don’t kick open a vent, this steam room in my mind might just explode. “I’m so happy for you,” I say dripping with as much sarcasm as I can muster. And no one hears.

_And people think I’m a diva!_

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Rachel POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Rachel just keep in her feelings about everything. She left the diner and as she walked back towards her motel she burst into song.

_“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did  
Ha, time for a little revenge_

_The story starts when it was hot and it was summer and_

_I had it all, I had him right there, where I wanted him_

_She came along, got him alone, and let’s hear the applause_

_She took him faster than you can say sabotage”_

She kept walking, not caring who was staring or what they thought.  
  
_“I never saw it coming, wouldn't have suspected it  
I underestimated just who I was dealing with  
She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum  
She underestimated just who she was stealing from  
  
She's not a saint and she's not what you think  
She's an actress, whoa  
She's better known for the things that she does  
On the mattress, whoa_

_Soon she’s gonna find stealing other people’s toys_

_On the playground won’t make you many friends_ _  
_ _She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind_ _  
There is nothing I do better than revenge, ha!  
  
She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list  
She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it  
I think her ever-present frown is a little troubling  
And she thinks I'm psycho 'cause I like to rhyme her name with things”_  
  


Rachel just had to get all these feelings out of her.

_“But sophistication isn’t what you wear or who you know_

_Or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go_

_Oh, they didn’t teach you that in prep school, so it’s up to me_

_But no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity  
  
She's not a saint and she's not what you think  
She's an actress, whoa  
She's better known for the things that she does  
On the mattress, whoa  
Soon she’s gonna find stealing other people’s toys_

_On the playground won’t make you many friends_

_She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind_ _  
There is nothing I do better than revenge, ha!  
  
I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey  
You might have him, but haven't you heard?  
I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey  
You might have him, but I always get the last word  
Whoa, whoa-ah-oh”_

  
Every second she thought about Finn and Santana together she just got more mad. How could Finn think that… _slut_ was the better choice! 

_“She's not a saint and she's not what you think_ _  
She's an actress, whoa (she deserved it)  
She's better known for the things that she does  
On the mattress, whoa  
Soon she’s gonna find stealing other people’s toys_

_On the playground won’t make you many friends_ _  
She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind  
There is nothing I do better than revenge, ha!  
  
Do you still feel like you know what you're doing?  
'Cause I don't think you do, oh (No, no, no, no)  
Do you still feel like you know what you're doing? (No)  
I don't think you do, I don't think you do_

_Let’s hear the applause_

_Come on, show me how much better you are_

_See you deserve some applause_

_‘Cause you’re so much better_

_  
She took him faster than you could say sabotage”_

She didn’t care about him! Santana doesn’t care about anyone but herself. _Can’t he see, I’m the one who understands him._

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Santana POV )))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Today, Santana hated everything with extra vengeance. Not only had the manager called her up and told her she had to work on her day off, but the shift itself sucked extra too! First, there was the pervy, retired English teacher sitting in her section who was ogling her every time she refilled his coffee. Then there was the mom sitting with her bratty little ones that were both screaming for sundaes. The two musicians who came in drunk _before_ the gig they were going to, making sexist jokes. As if the day could get any worse, then Rachel FUCKING Berry walked in and sat in her section.

_Great!_

_She knows I can’t avoid her now._ Santana asked another member of the wait staff, Karen, to take Rachel for her, trading off the fussy married couple who were regulars no one liked, since they barely tipped. It didn’t work though, Rachel insisted she wanted ‘her old friend’ to take her order.

_She’s probably getting off on my servitude!_

Besides Finn, Rachel was the last person Santana wanted to see right now.

Santana took a deep breath to calm herself, she plastered that impassive mask on her face and strolled up to the booth, “What can I get you?” As she would to any random stranger.

Rachel looked unsure for a moment, like she’d forgotten she needed to order as a pretext to this forced conversation, “Umm, I’ll take a vanilla milkshake.”

_And the guy I’m sorta living with!_

“With soy milk.”

Santana forced herself to say insincerely chipper, “Coming right up.” All punctuated with a big fake smile. She turned on her heel to put the order in before Rachel could demand anything else.

It wasn’t long before Diva-from-Hell put a song on the jukebox, effectively forcing Santana to be her dancing monkey too, since she had to bust-a-move now in front of the patrons.

Santana knew the moment the intro started to play that Berry had chosen an extra humiliating song. And the dance she had to do as part of her job to this particular song, was barely distinguishable from a lap dance. Santana went to the jukebox, and held her position. She started to sing.

_“The minute you walked in the joint  
I could see you were a man of distinction”_

Santana had to sway her hips one side then the other to the beat.  
  


_“A real big spender  
Good lookin' so refined  
Say, wouldn't you like to know what's goin' on in my mind?”_

Then she had to shimmy from her shoulders, letting her ample cleavage jiggle. It was one thing when Santana chose to dance like this of her own free will, but having to do it as part of your job, made her feel cheap. And it sent a message to customers that it was okay to treat you like you were for sale too.

  
_“So let me get right to the point  
I don't pop my cork for every man I see  
Hey big spender,  
Spend a little time with me”_

She had to thrust her hips on the repeated words.

_“Wouldn't you like to have fun, fun, fun  
How's about a few laughs, laughs  
I could show you a good time  
Let me show you a good time!”_

Santana had to grind against Karen and look seductive for the next part.

_“The minute you walked in the joint  
I could see you were a man of distinction  
A real big spender  
Good lookin' so refined  
Say, wouldn't you like to know what's goin' on in my mind?”_

Santana kept shaking her hips and ass and tried not to make eye contact with any of the patrons. Berry no doubt knew this song was from Sweet Charity. _Like I’m actually a prostitute, soliciting a John. Well, Rachel had said the only job I was going to have was dancing on a pole._

_Bitch!_

_  
“So let me get right to the point,  
I don't pop my cork for every guy I see  
Hey big spender  
Hey big spender  
Hey big spender  
Spend, a little time with me  
Yes”_

And finally her humiliation was over. Santana slinked off to take more orders.

“Can we talk?” Rachel asked as Santana strolled passed.

_Can I? Like I have a choice!_

“I said everything I had to say to you in New York,” She said flatly, not waiting for Rachel to respond.

“Why?” Rachel apparently didn’t care that Santana had said ‘no’, “Why did you go after Finn?” Rachel asked, “I have to know.”

_You **really** think this is about you. Don’t you._

Carly Simon’s voice started singing the chorus to ‘you’re so vain’ in her head.

“It stopped being your business when you two broke up,” Santana said defensively, crossing her arms. Santana was going to follow up with a snarky comment to the effect of ‘butt out’, but she couldn’t help but raise a question of her own. “So, what’s the point here, Berry?”

“Excuse you?”

“ _Why_ are you here?” Santana stated as if she were an idiot. “You _obviously_ aren’t moving to L.A., so what is your purpose here?” Santana interrogated the selfish brat, “come make things awkward for me and Finn, convince him to break-up with me? He just got a good acting job here, you can’t seriously think he’s going to come to New York with you now.”

Rachel was speechless at that.

“So, why are you here?” Santana repeated her question, “Are you really going to be the selfish Diva-from-Hell that tries to convince him to give up his aspirations to be the guy who holds your purse.”

“No!” Rachel gasped for words.

“You didn’t think it through did you,” Santana knew she was right, “You heard he was seeing me, and you couldn’t take it, so you jumped on the first flight you could get to convince him it’s madness.”

Rachel didn’t have much of an answer to that. She was struggling to come up with a justification.

“I just want to know why,” Berry stated plainly, “I think you owe me that much.”

Santana felt like slamming Rachel’s head into the table, but instead she took a deep breath and reminded herself she needed this job. In a controlled voice she replied, “I don’t owe you squat!”

Minutes later, when Santana delivered her milkshake. Rachel took a single sip before slowly and deliberately pouring the entire contents on the table and the floor.

“Oops!” She said, insincerely.

Then Rachel was walking out, leaving Santana to mop up the mess.

It took every ounce of Santana’s being not to hurl her order pad at Berry’s retreating head.

_I need this job._

_I **need** this job. _

_Take a deep breath._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only horribly sexist songs in this chapter- apologies- but I hope the point was made with 'Big Spender', it's less obvious with the Taylor Swift song 'Better than Revenge', but the whole referring to stealing guys like they are objects, and as if men hold no responsibility for cheating, instead choosing to blame the other woman is why that song grates on me.


	10. Trust

Finn had a break on set. There was some kind of technical delay involving lighting. Now he had all too much time to brood. Santana wasn’t home last night when he got in from set. It was her day off, and they usually went out for dinner, since it was their only opportunity for date night. Well they had done the last two Mondays. They hadn’t been dating very long to talk about having a set routine. They hadn’t made plans for that evening, but he was expecting to talk. But he still wasn’t sure what he wanted. 

He’d waited up for her. And waited. His mind kept making up worse and worse scenarios involving her off making love to random women.

_I’ve had three girlfriends and they’ve all cheated on me. Is there some lesson I need to learn here?_

He tried to snap himself out of it. She’d looked guilty as hell when he confronted her about it. He just wished she would have said sorry, and admitted she got scared he’d dump her and so she… did that. But it was like she was too proud or too scared to apologize.

_How did something good go to shit so fast?_

At the moment he’d been talking to Mr Schue about once a week, and he still didn’t think his mentor knew about the tell-tale kiss. He felt guilty asking for his help now. Finn wanted to talk to someone about what was happening, but he was finding himself short on friends. He had only told Mr Schue that he was starting to date again two weeks ago, and hadn’t said he was seeing Santana. But he was an adult with more perspective or something. So maybe he would have some sage advice.

“Finn.”

“Mr Schue… Will,” He corrected himself before his mentor could. It still sounded weird calling his teacher by his first name. But once you’d been asked to be their best man… well, it was expected.

“How’s the new job?” Mr Schue asked, “I’ve been bragging about how well you’re doing to my kids.”

Finn, felt his face pull into a one sided-smile. “Yeah, I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, I’m so proud.”

“I keep thinking they’re gonna turn around and say they made a mistake and fire me, but they don’t.”

“You’re too modest!” Mr Schue countered, “you are so talented, Finn! Don’t be surprised others can see it too.”

Finn was sure he was blushing. At least his teacher couldn’t see his face right now.

“The kids are gearing up for Regionals.”

“That’s awesome! Wish them luck from me,” Finn thought on the club fondly for a moment. He’d enjoyed his time with them, but doing his own thing now felt right. “How’s Emma?”

Mr Schue was a little thrown by the sudden change in direction, “She’s okay.”

Finn waited for his friend to say more.

“We’ve talked about what happened. Why she ran.”

Finn froze.

Mr Schue continued oblivious to Finn’s feelings of discomfort, “She felt so much pressure, you know, she wanted it to be perfect and everything, but the reality of it… it was too much.”

“That’s all?” Finn felt like shit for not speaking up.

“That, and she said she wasn’t sure if I was still the same after… D.C. and everything,” Mr Schue explained, “whether we’d still be on the same page, and want the same things.”

“Nothing else?”

“No. Why?” Mr Schue finally cottoned on that Finn was trying to pry information out of him.

Finn panicked, “No reason. I’m glad you guys are working it out. You’re meant to be.”

“Yeah, I’m not worried. Emma’s back living with me. The rest we can take slow.”

“Can I ask you something.”

“Sure, Finn. What’s on your mind?”

Finn took a few deep breaths, where to even start.

“Have you ever been cheated on?”

Mr Schue gave the question the proper contemplation it deserved, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

“Terry had a lot of faults, but I never worried about that particular scenario, and Emma, well, I can’t really imagine her doing that either.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Finn agreed feeling lower than a cockroach, “I… I’m just…”

“What’s going on Finn? Are you in a relationship?”

“Yeah, and it got pretty serious pretty fast.”

“Okay.”

“And then it got complicated.”

“Why?”  
“Because Rachel just showed up…”

“Rachel’s in L.A.?”

“Yeah, and the woman I’m seeing, she kind of knows that history… between me and Rachel.”

“Okay…”

“Finn did you do something you feel guilty about?” Mr Schue asked sounding exactly like a school teacher, “You can tell me.”

_Mr Schue thinks I cheated on my new girlfriend with Rachel._

“I didn’t.”

“I want you to know you can confide in me.”  
“Rachel showed up, and… Santana ran out and cheated on me with the first woman she could find!”

There was a long pause.

“What about Santana?” Mr Schue was now lost.

“I’m dating Santana now,” Finn finally stated plainly.

“Your new girlfriend is…” Mr Schue sounded like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

“Yeah.”

“Well, okay,” Mr Schue had a fake ‘I’m happy for you’ ring to his voice to cover his shock, “I… of all the dating combinations,” And then he just sounded flustered, “I didn’t think I’d see that one _again_ … _ever_.”

Silence.

Finn chose to ignore that Mr Schue was hung up on the wrong part of his story, “When Quinn cheated on me… I broke up with her, and I didn’t question if that was the right thing to do, I felt so betrayed I could barely stand to look at her! I couldn’t have done otherwise.”

“I here you,” Mr Schue sounded supportive.

“And when Rachel kissed Puck, I knew she just did it to be mean, to make me jealous, and on top of all the other spoiled and selfish things she kept doing, it just showed me I didn’t want to be with someone who’d do that, you know.”

“I get it,” Will admitted, “You can’t be with someone you don’t trust.”

“Exactly.” Finn was so glad he got it, “But the thing with Rachel, sort of blew over, we were both mad, she only did it because she learned about… me and Santana, I knew that, but it didn’t seem equivalent.”

“Okay.”

Finn didn’t want to get into all the details, “Santana and I, we’ve been getting really close, and she gets me, even though she gives me a hard time, I know she sees me, and she’s always doing things to help, even if she won’t admit it.”

“Okay.”

“Like this acting job, she found this part, the perfect part for me,” Finn didn’t know how to express it, “the more time I spend with her, the more I like her, the more I get to know her the more I want to know, all this stuff she’s done that made me crazy, it makes sense now. She’s not…”

“Not what?”  
“Mean, or cruel or selfish, she… just acts from weakness sometimes.”

“What are you trying to say, Finn?”

“She has all these issues, and all this stuff going on with her, that makes her act out.”

Mr Schue clearly wasn’t sure why he was being asked for advice, “What do you want from me here, Finn?”

“I just feel so mad! And I don’t want her to think I will just put up with her hooking up with other people.”

“Okay.”

Finn just kind of exploded, “How do you go forward after something like this?!” He felt hopeless.

If they were looking at one another, he could imagine Mr Schue would be contemplative, and nodding his head slowly as he mulled it over.  
  


The answer was a while coming, “I can’t answer that for you.” Will said sounding full of wisdom, “But, no relationship is ever easy. No one is perfect. I think in a healthy relationship you’ve got to be able to tell your partner what you need, and tell them when they’ve hurt you.”

Finn knew he sounded like a little kid, “But why didn’t she care about me enough not to hurt me?”

“Finn, I don’t know anything about your relationship, but I do know you need to have this conversation with Santana.”

Finn nodded, then remembered Mr Schue couldn’t see him, “Yeah, okay.”

“Maybe take some time,” Will suggested, “Take a breath, and think about what you want and what you need. And then ask her if she can commit to giving it to you.”

“Thanks, Mr Schue.”

“Will.” His mentor corrected, “Any time, buddy.”

“Good luck with Regionals. I wish I could be there.”

“Thanks. You’re living the dream, inspiring my students from afar,” Will beamed, “You do you for a while, you’ve already gone above and beyond for Glee Club this year!”

))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn was determined to take Mr Schue’s advice and not talk to Santana until he’d had a chance to consider what he wanted. Which was easier than he expected, since she seemed determined to avoid him. He didn’t go to the diner that evening. He fell asleep on the couch, and she must have snuck in quietly, because he woke about 3 am, and went to check on her, and she was in her bed, snoring cutely as she always did. It had been hard to get used to sleeping next to someone after 19 years of sleeping alone, and now he didn’t like to be missing the heat from her body and all her little habits he now found adorable. Like how she slept on her side, with her arms crossed with her hands balled into fists right near her face. And how Santana thought it was weird if he tried to put his arm around her. Or how she’d kick him in the morning to wake him up enough to initiate sex. Half the time she’d already be on top of him when he was still in a morning haze.

)))))))))))))))))))

Rachel kept messaging, apologizing for running out of the restaurant on Sunday. She said she had a better handle on her feelings now, and would like to meet up again to talk. Just as friends. Finn decided he should hear Rachel out. It wouldn’t change anything, but he didn’t want to be fighting with her. He was staying here and she was living there. But a dinner to catch up properly and talk couldn’t do any harm.

Rachel picked an Italian place, much more fancy call L’Aperitivo. She made the reservations and texted him the address. It was near the studio so he came straight from work. They’d wrapped early tonight so it was only 6:30 when he arrived, and Rachel texted for him to meet her in the bar, since they didn’t have the table until seven. Finn couldn’t see her so he sat at the bar and started to scan the room. The glasses hung from the roof of the bar, and they had all these exotic looking bottles lining the shelves, with spirits of every color of the rainbow on display. Stuff he’d never heard of. Rachel walked up slowly, looking like Audrey Hepburn in _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_.

“Hello Finn,” She beamed, moving elegantly in a long black dress.

Finn was shocked. Her hair was up in a bun and Rachel was wearing pearls. He regained control of himself, enough to awkwardly say hello and invite her to sit on the stool next to him. He buried his head in a drink menu. Finn wasn’t drinking, he didn’t want to risk doing anything he’d regret.

_Unlike Santana, I don’t want to cheat!_

He ordered a soda and Rachel ordered that same drink she’d had at that NYADA hangout.

He didn’t complement her outfit, which may have put Rachel out a bit, since she’d clearly gone to a lot of trouble with her appearance.

“So, how was your day?” Rachel started the conversation.

“It was good. How are you enjoying L.A.?”  
“I went to Sunset Boulevard today.”

“Awesome!” He didn’t bother asking any questions about it, because this was clearly the preamble chit chat portion of the evening.

“So, how’s Santana,” Rachel had an heir of someone who was dying inside trying to be so okay with something she was fundamentally not okay with.

Finn appreciated her effort. But he didn’t want to tell her. He felt ashamed that 2 seconds after he was telling her how serious they were, Santana had shown him she didn’t care.

“She’s fine,” He said, before moving on to, “How was coffee with Mercedes?”

“Helpful,” Rachel replied.

“It’s awesome about her album, right?” He commented, and then saw the confusion play out on Rachel’s face.

_She doesn’t know what I’m talking about._

That topic exhausted, Finn needed to regroup. “So, what’s the next big thing at NYADA now that Winter Showcase is over?” He asked.

Rachel shrugged, “Nothing just yet, I still have to pass my dance 101 class, I’ve been practicing my pirouettes.”

“Is Cassie still giving you a hard time?”

She nodded.

“Don’t let her get you down,” Finn encouraged, “Just keep working hard, and don’t let her mess with your head.”

“There’s a big recital worth 40% of my grade,” Rachel looked nervous, “One group dance, and an individual dance we have to choreograph ourselves.”

“I’ll be rooting for you, let me know how it goes,” Finn continued to be supportive.

“So, I’m allowed to contact you again?” She was a little snippy.

“I was just trying to give us both a chance to move on,” He explained rationally.

He didn’t want to keep fighting about this.

Rachel brooded silently. Finn knew to wait, there was a question on her lips.

“Finn,” Rachel looked positively heartbroken, “Please, tell me, I’ve got to know… how did things happen with Santana.”

Finn didn’t want to get into this with her, especially not now that there was so much up in the air with their relationship. He worried he’d let something slip, because he didn’t want Rachel to know about the cheating, not until he had his head around what he wanted to do.

He didn’t like where he thought this was going, “What are you asking?”

“Were you just drunk and lonely?” Rachel was searching for answers. “Did she hit on you?”

Finn decided to give her a little closure, “It wasn’t like that, I was really struggling,” _Which is an understatement_ , “Santana showed me kindness.”

He remembered back, only two short months ago. He still felt a tingle whenever he thought back on the reception and the Dirty Dancing, and the way they had looked into each other’s eyes. And how Santana had made him feel.

Rachel could tell something about how he was reminiscing fondly or something, because she got mighty pissed.

“What made you want to keep seeing her?” Rachel asked, it seemed to just be torture at this point. “What do you like about her? I just don’t understand."

“Rachel,” Finn just felt so frustrated that she just wanted to keep coming back to this, “you asked me to dinner in the name of friendship, but that’s not what you’re doing now.”

“You want me to move passed it,” Rachel reminded him pointedly, “I’m trying to do that, and I think it would help me if I could make sense of this.”

Finn didn’t think that was what she was doing at all. “I think my relationship with Santana needs to be… off limits, for now.” He took a long swallow of soda, and decided to change the topic, “Guess what I did on set today.”

She shook her head, “Tell me.”

Finn couldn’t help but be excited, “We shot the scene of me playing and singing ‘Wonderwall’.”

“Oasis?” Rachel wasn’t sure.

“Yeah,” Finn beamed, “The song suited because I’m trying to tell Marisol I’m in her corner, but she ultimately needs to save herself or something.”

“That’s great, Finn,” Rachel smiled, and she did seem happy for him.

“They loved that I sung John Lennon at my audition,” Finn couldn’t help but smile, “’Stand by Me’ was Santana’s idea.”

Rachel smiled.

“It’s not the whole song or anything. Just a couple of versus and a chorus,” Finn wanted her to understand, “They showed it to me at the end, I’m really proud of it.”

It occurred to him that the person he was really dying to tell about it was Santana. Rachel asked a few more questions about shooting, how he was liking his costars, what he thought of the arc so far, was he finding his feet.

The actor playing his dad, Reg, had taken a liking to Finn. He was helping him with the nuances of dramatic scenes, how to use props, how to convey the emotions on his face while connecting with his scene partner, and ensuring he made never turning his back on the camera look natural.

It was after seven now, so they went to the bistro and sat at their table. The place had a maître d’ and table cloths and everything. There was even a pianist playing somber songs under low light in a corner. Finn hadn’t been anywhere fancier than Sardi’s when he was in New York with Rachel. But this place was another level again. Was he paying? It was a friendly dinner so they were probably going halves? Finn ordered spaghetti and meatballs. Which was somehow $28. Rachel got pesto.

“Do you know how much longer your character’s storyline is going to be yet?” Rachel asked.

“I still don’t know, which I guess is a good thing…” Finn explained, “I think, because by the time they tell me, it’ll be the end.”

Rachel pulled a pamphlet out of her handbag, “I found out about a niche acting program at Columbia.”

Finn was taken aback. 

“Rachel, I can’t leave L.A., I signed a contract with the studio.”

“But, if you’re done by September,” Rachel countered, “You could apply now, and defer if you’re still on the show, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t take you, I mean if you’re good enough for _The Bold and the Beautiful_.”

“Rachel,” Finn sighed.

“You said you didn’t want your passion to be sidelined by my ambition, and I heard you,” Rachel continued to argue for him to come back to New York, “In New York, you’ll be exposed to all the right people, I can tutor you with all the knowledge I’m getting from the finest teachers at NYADA.”

_This is not a friendship dinner._

“Here, with Santana…” Finn started to say.

Rachel practically winced at her name.

“… I’m figuring it out at my own pace,” Finn smiled, “I still don’t know what I want, but I’m enjoying trying things, and she’s not sure either and so we’ve been working it out together.”

“And Santana is helping you?” Rachel scoffed.

“She is _actually_ ,” Finn defended his girlfriend, “she’s the main reason I got the soap opera, she found the perfect part for me.”

And for a moment he forgot he was mad at Santana.

“Santana only cares about making it herself,” Rachel snapped.

 _Pot calling the kettle black, much!_ Finn chastised her in his head, but didn’t fire back.

Finn didn’t want this to descend into another mudslinging match, “I don’t think soap operas are where I’m going to end up, but I’m getting a taste.”

He checked her face, she was upset for sure, in disagreement, but Rachel was listening.

Finn kept explaining, “Maybe I’ll miss music too much, maybe I’ll try movies, or TV comedies, or Shakespearean plays…” Finn was exaggerating with the Shakespeare, he definitely couldn’t rock tights, and an old timey English accent. He felt all jittery, “I don’t know… but I want to just… get out and do.”

“I want to help you do all of that,” Rachel sounded ready to burst into tears.

“I don’t doubt you when you say that, that you mean it,” Finn started to explain again, “but the reality of your life, Rachel, is that you want so many things for yourself, and you want them so badly… that my dreams just get lost,” Finn watched her face, that what he was saying was truly being understood.

Rachel was just so sad. He had to stop himself from continuing to speak, he needed to just let it sink in. A lone tear ran down her cheek. It was going to hurt, he’d grieved the loss of their relationship in the month before he decided to go to L.A. He needed to let her do the same, she hadn’t accepted it was over yet.

“You’re a star Rachel,” He said, meaning every syllable, “You don’t need me to succeed, I would never want to stand in the way of you getting everything you deserve.”

But Rachel wasn’t there yet, her contempt was palpable, “Here, you’re just going to be _Santana’s_ boyfriend.”

Finn explained, “I need to be honest with you, I doubt you could tell, but that apartment, it’s a 2-bedroom place.”

Rachel didn’t appear to get it straight away.

“Santana and I are sharing a room.”

“You’re living together,” She repeated, spilling her non-alcoholic cocktail.

He told her gently, but he wanted to be direct, “Until a few weeks ago… we worked at the same diner, we spend a lot of time together,” And before Finn knew it, he’d said, “I’m really happy.”

Finn had just been thinking of his relationship with Santana before Sunday, and it was true. But he was so upset, and he wasn’t sure what they were right now.

“Happier than you were with me?” Rachel asked, clearly feeling insecure.

 _It’s not a competition._ “Rachel, let’s not do this,” He warned.

“I _need_ to know, Finn,” She insisted.

Finn felt that this was a trap, he settled on, “Different.”

He may as well have slapped her, based on how distraught Rachel was that he didn’t say he loved her more.

Rachel started to cry more obviously now, “Because she’s sexy, and experienced…”

“Rachel, don’t do this,” Finn felt dismayed.

“She picked on me…” Rachel tried a different line of attack, “she insulted _you_ , for years! She’s a horrible person!”

“Rachel!” Finn appealed to her to stop this.

But Rachel was lashing out, “How bad does your self-esteem have to be to date the person who went around telling everyone that you’re fat, and bad in bed, Finn!”

“Come on, Rachel,” Finn said, “ _that_ was never what her attacking me was about.”  
“Oh, really?” Rachel folded her arms, “Then what was it about?”

But Finn he had a much deeper understanding of Santana now. _Santana **is** brutally honest, that’s why I thought what she said about me had to be right. But I rejected her after we had sex, and in Santana’s world being rejected like that is about the worst thing anyone could do. _He could see that now _. Her insults to me weren’t on the money, they just reflected her own insecurities. Why was I hurt she said I had weird nipples? I never even noticed, she’s the one who got implants. Santana’s funny about her weight, and is worried she isn’t quite good enough to make it on her talent. She was just tearing herself down when she was attacking me. Calling me dumb! She was in love with the dumbest person alive!_ Besides, Santana was dealing with a lot when she was acting like that, she’d changed since she had finally accepted herself.

Finn was pulled from his contemplation when he realized Rachel was still talking.

Rachel was saying, “Some of the worst insults I remember from high school came directly from her mouth.”

Rachel wasn’t nearly finished, “She deliberately tried to break us up in Junior Year when she announced to everyone about your little motel room tryst!”

 _Santana threw herself at me at my Mom’s Wedding,_ but now Finn knew that was the week after her real father had rejected her after she told him she was his kid. _And I rejected her, again. And a week later Santana threw napalm on my relationship with Rachel because I’d said publicly that ‘she wasn’t worth it’. Santana isn’t cruel for the sake of it. Her anger and her feelings overwhelm her sometimes and lashing out is the only way she can feel any sense of control._ Finn got it now, but he wasn’t going to tell any of that to Rachel.

Rachel’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Finn, I just don’t understand, how after all of that you can date her?”

“I don’t need your approval,” Finn stated.

“She’s all wrong for you, Finn,” Rachel stated as if it were just obvious.

Rachel wasn’t taking the hint to beg off though, “My relationship is for me to figure out, not you… this is exactly why we can’t be friends yet,” Finn knew. _Because you want me, so you are going to act to sabotage this._ He loved her, and he knew her all too well. 

“I want you back,” Rachel was practically begging.

And Finn felt horrible watching her cry over him. 

_It just takes time. I grieved the loss of you too._

Rachel suddenly decided it was all too much, getting up from the bar dramatically and saying, “You said you’d love me forever, it hasn’t even been a year… and you’ve given up on us.”

She moved awkwardly in her high heels across the room, past the maître d’

She got to the door, but Finn’s voice stopped her and she turned back.

“If we’re meant to be, then… one day, we’ll both be in the same city, and single, and still feel that spark.”

That was the only bit of comfort he had for her, what little that it was. He saw her face pull in pain as she retreated towards the door.

_I know this sucks. It sucked for me too._

Finn didn’t go after her. While Rachel was ranting, he’d made a realization of his own. Their food hadn’t even arrived yet. _Hopefully they do doggy bags._ Because if he was paying that much for some pasta and meatballs he wanted to be able to eat it for a few days.

))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn got home. Mercedes was home early, she usually stayed in the studio all day and would be hone after nine. Finn reheated the food, and he ate his meatballs. She enjoyed the pesto, so it least it didn’t go to waste. The chicken nuggets and chips she’d made last night would keep another day. Finn hadn’t felt like sitting in so fancy a restaurant alone, being thoroughly underdressed.

“So…” Mercedes asked between mouthfuls, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two have stopped being bunnies since Rachel showed up.”

Finn didn’t know what she was talking about.

Mercedes clarified, “The walls here are _really_ thin.”

_She can hear us having sex._

“Talk to me,” She invited him to be open.

“One second everything was going so… good, and then… POW!” He made a motion like an explosion.

“Well, it’s not surprising Santana’s feeling insecure about Rachel showing up.”

“I know, and I told her to trust me, and she ran out and…” Did he want to admit it, he felt so ashamed that he’d been cheated on again.

“Ran and what?”

“… cheated on me with the first girl she could find.”

Mercedes was unable to hide how unexpected that was to her. “I thought she really liked you.”

It hung in the air.

“So did I.”

“Are you two breaking up?” She asked tentatively, hoping the answer was ‘no’.

“I guess that depends on her,” Was all he said in the end.

He showered and did the dishes and then he waited until midnight.

The truth was he didn’t want to be apart from her. Then he hated himself for feeling weak.

)))))))

Finn was at the diner as her shift finished, feeling like the golden retriever he clearly was at this point. Santana was shocked to see him, again. She gave him a leftover baggy of grilled cheese sandwich, which made him remember them getting room service together. They walked home in total silence. He let her shower and change, and then she came out into the lounge room so they could talk.

“You first,” Santana insisted.

Finn was prepared with what he wanted to say, “I need you to tell me why you did that.”

Finn was sure he knew why, but he needed her to admit it out loud so he knew she consciously understood why.

Santana just hung her head in shame.

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “I told you I’m a shit girlfriend, so just _fucking_ break up with me already.”

What she was saying was, ‘I’m no good, Finn’ With a scared look in her eye that said she was distraught, ‘get out, save yourself’.

He wasn’t letting it go though. “I need you to do better than that, how were you feeling?”

“Pissed off.”

“Why?”  
“Because you were looking at Berry like you were so happy she was back in your life!” She snapped, before quietly admitting, “I knew I was on borrowed time.”

“You were afraid I was going to dump you,” Finn repeated what he was sure was the real reason now.

Santana stood up and started pacing the room, her arms crossed. This was really hard for her, and he could see it.

Finn had a few more questions he needed answered though, “When you and Brittany started dating, not when you were just fooling around… did you ever cheat on her?”

Santana looked offended, “No!”

_Good. She isn’t just a cheater._

He took a deep breath, “Have you been… craving women since we got together?”

She was clearly surprised by that question, taking a moment before shaking her head.

_Good._

He decided to give her the reassurance she clearly needed, “I’m not breaking up with you.”

Her head snapped around and her brow furrowed, she couldn’t understand why. But she was listening.

“But I think we should take a step back, for now,” He said, feeling more sure about this than anything at the moment, “We both need to learn to trust each other, and I think we maybe got too serious too fast.”

They hadn’t discussed the ground rules of their relationship yet, but ‘don’t cheat on me’ sort of went without saying.

“I am sorry, Finn,” Santana couldn’t look him in the eye but her remorse was evident, “I want to be with you. _Only_ you.”

She leaned over to kiss him, but he held up his hand to prevent her.

He kept explaining what he needed, “We need to take things slow, for a while, to rebuild. Puck is getting a place nearby, and I’m going to move in with him.”

Santana nodded. She wasn’t really in a position to object.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” He said.

She nodded.

“I think we should keep spending time together,” He explained.

She nodded.

“Next Monday, after work, let’s go out, you choose and plan what we do.”

She nodded.

“Surprise me,” He said.

She nodded.

“That’s what I need from you,” Finn reiterated and then he waited.

“Yes… okay,” Santana’s eyes were filled with tears. She looked so relieved. 

_She was terrified I was going to break up with her._

They didn’t hug or kiss. That’s where they left it that night. Finn felt hurt, but he also knew what they had was worth trying to salvage. What did ‘going slow’ with Santana Lopez even look like? Finn honestly didn’t know.


	11. Sexy

It was the 3rd episode he was in so far. And with the building sexual tension between Spencer and Marisol, she was going to accidently walk in on him shirtless in the bathroom. Finn would be wet from having only just gotten out of the shower, and he’d only be seen to be wearing a towel. His co-star Jennifer was professional, and Finn wasn’t worried about her reacting to him, he just didn’t want to do this at all. In reality he had underwear on, but his pasty, under-toned chest and flabby belly were going to be on display for all the world to see. He didn’t have the muscular Hollywood heartthrob physique. Something Finn had been made painfully aware of. To make matters worse the assistant director had been hinting he should hit the gym more.

Finn had been dreading shooting this scene ever since he’d gotten the script. He desperately wanted to talk to Santana about it, since she was pretty comfortable showing off her… assets. But since they’d been avoiding each other, and now, only now just talking again, he hadn’t been able to. He felt good about the decision to take things slow, and take a step back, they’d never really sat down and discussed living together it had just sort of happened due to circumstances.

And when Finn raised his concerns with the director, the guy had laughed in his face, and said, he’d signed a contract, so they could basically make him do anything they liked. And Finn hated that they didn’t care that he was uncomfortable. It was his body! Did they really have more control over it than he did?

He just wanted to talk to Santana. 

The plan was to shoot the shower scene on Monday, today had only been rehearsal, and they’d shot an earlier scene with Spencer and Marisol talking about his dad. Finn was exhausted when he finally did get back to Mercedes’ place. He came in and dropped his keys on the floor and flopped face first onto the couch and resolved to just stay there. He felt a hand on the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He turned thinking for some reason it had to be Santana.

“Rough day?”

It was Rachel, looking uncertain, smiling as if she hoped he didn’t mind she’d just shown up.

“You could say that,” Was all he said, turning over to sit up on the couch.

“Tell me,” Rachel began to explain herself, “Mercedes had to go, but she said you wouldn’t be long.”

Finn wasn’t sure what to expect this time. Rachel politely sat next to him, looking sorry about everything.

“I…” Finn sighed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“You used to tell me everything,” She sounded dejected.

Finn didn’t want to get into it though, “I know I did.”

“But not now,” Rachel observed sadly, but accepted his silence.

_Trust is earned._

“I need to tell you something,” She finally said after it had been too long.

Finn was unsure what could be about to topple out of her mouth at this point.

“There’s talk of a revival of _Funny Girl_ on Broadway, I’m flying out tonight to start preparing my audition.”

“That’s awesome, Rachel!” Finn admitted, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Fanny Bryce!” Rachel’s face beamed, “It’s a dream come true!”

“Well, don’t let me distract you,” Finn said, “This has been your dream since pre-school. Go get it!”

“It’s open call,” Rachel became reticent, crossing her arms, “I’ll be up against seasoned Broadway performers.”

Finn smirked, “Since when is Rachel Berry afraid of a challenge?”

Rachel looked embarrassed for a moment, looking up and smiling.

“Can’t wait to see you kill the competition,” Finn encouraged, “get your name up in lights. That’s where you belong, Rachel.”

And he meant every word.

Rachel nodded, looking at him with a sad and longing expression for a moment too long, “Thanks Finn, you always know how to make me feel better.”

Rachel wrestled with something else, Finn sat patiently, waiting for her to find her voice.

“I’m not going to pretend that I understand, or I’m happy about… _her_ ,” Rachel admitted peevishly, before softening her tone, “But, I think I’m… going to let you figure that one out on your own.”

Finn grinned broadly, “That’s all I was hoping for.”

“I don’t think you belong together…” Rachel started to say, gathering her coat and bag, before seeing Finn’s patience vanish, then she sighed, and took a deep breath and found her poise, “Tell Santana… I’m sorry about the milkshake.”

Finn didn’t know what she was referencing. But he nodded all the same. 

“You know I want nothing but he best for you,” Finn reiterated, getting up himself now, making sure she stared into his eyes, “I’ll be in the front row cheering the loudest for you, you know that don’t you? How much you mean to me?”

She smiled sadly, and they hugged, as old friends. Because whatever else they were or might be again, they genuinely cared for one another. She retreated to the entrance.

Finn called after her, “Let me know how you go.”

“Will do,” Rachel stopped at the door, hanging onto the handle, looking like she was dying for him to ask her to stay. “Bye, Finn,” Rachel still looked dramatic, but there were no tears this time, “You do seem… good.”

_I feel good. Being here._ Finn wasn’t full of regret. He knew where returning to New York with Rachel led. Finn wasn’t sure where the road with Santana led. Maybe somewhere bad, maybe he’d get third degree burns. But he wanted to try and find that out for himself.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Kurt POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Kurt heard the grumbling sound of their hangar door creaking on its rollers. He ducked his head out from his makeshift bedroom partition. It was really late. Rachel had dropped her suitcase. She seemed like she’d been holding everything in, and now that she was home it all came pouring out of her. She stifled a sob. And Kurt came over to give her a hug, she sunk in his arms to the ground, as if holding herself up was too painful.

“I thought…” but her words were lost to sobbing.

“I’m here,” Kurt reassured her.

She was incoherent for a time, and so Kurt just rubbed her back to be soothing. It was hard to accept things were over. He’d been slowly accepting this more and more with Blaine, even though they didn’t have such a finite end themselves.

“It wasn’t her…” Rachel wailed.

Kurt wasn’t sure what she meant, but he chose to just listen.

“It was me!” Rachel cried, “ _I_ wrecked it.”

She wiped tears and snot from her face, that was red and swollen. Kurt felt really bad for her. He knew how hard this was.

Rachel exclaimed, “He thinks I’m too self-centered!”

Kurt wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So, he just squeezed her tighter.

“I thought it was just… _her_ , with her sexy… and he was lonely, and she wowed him with her… _skills_!”

Kurt was listening.

“But Finn doesn’t want me back,” Rachel’s voice was cracking, “He thinks there’s no room for him in my life.”

“I’m really sorry, Rachel,” Kurt was supportive, “I know how much you love him.”

Her whole body shook with sounds of pain.

“I’ve got ice-cream, cookies and cream,” Kurt suggested, “we could watch _Beaches_.” He didn’t need to add ‘and cry’. That was implied.

She nodded.

))))))

It was the next day, Kurt had played hooky from NYADA, and Rachel had told him about the whole trip to L.A. now. So, he had a pretty good understanding of what went down. Mercedes had already called him too, before Rachel had arrived back home.

They were sitting on the couch again with crocheted throw rugs on their laps drinking tea, deciding which sad movie to watch and cry over next. They had it narrowed between _Steel Magnolias_ and _Thelma and Louise_. He’d only been out once for more comfort food, doughnuts and Belgian waffles. Rachel hardly ever splurged like this.

“Are you going to call Santana,” He asked calmly.

Rachel looked at him as if she didn’t understand at all.

“To apologize.”

“You think I should?”

Kurt nodded.

“You heard all those things she said to me, here,” Rachel was shaking her head, pointing to the ground.

Kurt took the high road, “I’ll be the first to admit I thought he was crazy for wanting to date her too, but part of showing respect for Finn, is showing respect for his choice of girlfriend.”

Rachel ignored his point, “And the worst part is I know she meant all of those insults.”

“Santana didn’t break you guys up,” Kurt reiterated, “You weren’t together,” He pointed out.

Rachel crossed her arms defensively and looked away, huffily, “So you’re taking _her_ side!”

“And, you called her a few bad names too, if I recall.” He pointedly stared back.

Rachel was annoyed, “She’s not sorry, why should I be?”

Kurt took a moment to compose his thoughts, “Rachel, we don’t apologize because we know we are going to get an apology in return. We apologize because we are acknowledging we wronged someone.”

“How did I wrong her?” Rachel argued, “She slept with my ex, while the dead body was still warm!”

“Finn isn’t a thing, he made his own decisions,” Kurt’s annoyance snuck into his tone, he wanted to be with her, too,” Kurt pointed out. “And Finn was really down before the wedding, and he’s doing better now. He said she really helped him.”

Rachel wasn’t impressed.

Kurt held his hands up, “Just think about it. If you can make your peace with their relationship, and still be on speaking terms with Finn, then… it seems only fair, that you don’t,” Kurt shook his raised hands for emphasis, “… blame Santana for all that is bad in the universe too.”

_Come on, Rachel. You can get there._

Rachel rolled her eyes, but Kurt could see that she was softening on the idea, “I’ll consider it!”

Rachel turned the TV off.

She smiled gregariously, “Now help me practice ‘Don’t Rain on my Parade’ for my _Funny Girl_ audition.”

Kurt smiled, “Okay.”

It wasn’t for a month, but at least she had something she was genuinely excited about to focus on. She’d get through this.

“You’re such a good friend,” She observed getting up.

_Yes, I am!_

)))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn hadn’t shown up to walk her home from the diner last night. Even though he’d said they were still dating, he was getting ready to pack his stuff up to move in with Puck tomorrow, and she just felt like nothing was ever going to be the same again.

It was Friday morning, and Santana hadn’t bothered to run again today, she’d mostly been laying around on the couch, not even looking for more auditions. She couldn’t face any more rejection right now. And then her cell phone rang. She hoped it was Brittnay. They’d talked briefly yesterday in the afternoon. But, it was regionals today, and she’d sent her best friend a good luck message.

‘Grandma Berry’ was all that flashed on her iPhone display.

“Hi,” Santana answered uncertainly, expecting Berry to hang up once she realized she’d accidently butt dialed her arch nemesis.

“Can we talk,” Rachel sounded contrite.

_Wait, she really called me?_

“Sure,” Santana didn’t mean to drag out the syllable, but she was on edge as to what was coming.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel sounded ready to burst, “I shouldn’t have gone to there to try to get Finn to come back to New York with me.”

_That sounds more like an apology you owe him_ , Santana thought, but didn’t say.

“I’m listening,” Was all Santana said in response.

“I shouldn’t have attacked you,” Rachel went on without encouragement from her, “I made it all your fault in my head, but the truth is, Finn doesn’t want to be with me.”

_Yeah I can’t imagine why he doesn’t want to be with you!_

_REFRAIN, SANTANA, REFRAIN_ , she was even speaking to herself in third person now.

_She’s apologizing._

_REFRAIN FROM SNARKY COMMENT!_

“So, no more surprise visits to L.A.?” Santana spoke harshly, “And no more trying to convince Finn we don’t make a good couple? Humiliating me at my job?”

“No.”

Santana wasn’t letting her off that easy, “No more false offers of friendship that is just you trying to date him again, and no more attempts to enroll him in schools in New York?”

“No.”

“Well, then I accept your apology,” Santana was still coming off catty, she was trying to dial down the attitude, because she wanted to mean that statement. 

And, then Rachel waited.

_Oh, now Barbara-in-training wants **my** apology. This is just… **delicious!**_

_I’m **sorry** that Brody had no personality, and kind of looks like Blaine Warbler’s gay older brother, but **gayer**. I’m **sorry** that you felt the need to show him off to all your friends. I’m **sorry** that when I came across a depressed Finn, drowning his sorrows, I didn’t let him drive drunk. I’m **sorry** that he’s kind and supportive and I enjoy **fucking him**. I’m **sorry** I told you the truth about how I **really** feel about all your self-centered, only child, ‘poor me’ privileged, **diva** antics. I’m **sorry** that I kicked you out of the house in a city where you know no one, because I thought you’d slept with the guy I broke up with **eight months** ago. **Oh, wait, no** … that was **you!** _

_I’m **sorry** that Finn wants to be with me because we enjoy hanging out together, and that he’s **unashamedly** pursuing his own thing. I’m **sorry** that he’s realized he’s more than **just** your boyfriend and can make it as an actor without **any** input from you! I’m **sorry** that I’m **not sorry** , we’re here together and you’re over there! **Broadway** is for geriatrics. **It’s all yours!**_

But all Santana forced herself to say in the end was, “Thanks for your call, Berry. Best of luck in New York.”

And then she clicked ‘end’.

Santana swallowed back all the venom in her throat. And then she took a breath. _I’m gonna be constipated tonight!_

_Well, I wasn’t sure she knew what an apology was… so I should probably call that progress and move on!_

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Finn POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn made an effort to go to the diner at closing time even though he’d had another really long day. Santana was happy to see him. Finn told her what had happened. That Rachel had made her peace with their relationship as much as she was ever going to, and that she’d gone back to New York. He mentioned the _Funny Girl_ open call, and that Rachel had apologized for ‘the milkshake’.

Santana was very quiet, preferring to just listen. But he could sense her relief.

“Thoughts?” Finn finally asked.

She just shook her head. But, Santana couldn’t help but fidget. A pattern of behavior Finn was getting to know. Santana stepped towards him and began to straighten his collar, reflexively, calming her nerves.

“I know we said Monday for our date, but I managed to swap off Sunday instead,” She explained.

Finn grinned. _Perfect._

“So, um, if you can make that work, I’ll pick you up at four.”

“Sounds great,” He kissed her cheek.

It was strange, but Finn was having a hard time staying mad at her. He was happy they were starting over and he’d missed her so much. Even though he still saw her at the flat in passing. Things weren’t the same. But he wanted to get back to them dating, however slow.

“Oh, and don’t wear jeans… or flannel.”

“Huh?” Finn was exasperated, “What am I supposed to wear, then?”

“Dress pants and a shirt,” She clarified.

“Where are we going?”

She raised a wicked eyebrow, “You’ll see.”

“I can’t wait.”

Santana offered him the baggy of leftover bear claw, but Finn said no thanks tonight, remembering his concerns about his ‘less than washboard’ abs. And then he told her about what had happened on set. And how he was feeling about the shower scene.

“They aren’t going to change the scene, Finn,” She told him straight.

“What if I do a bad job of it.”

“Then audiences won’t like it, and your arc will come to an abrupt end.”

“So, basically I’m screwed,” He surmised.

“You need to find a way to fake that you’re confident,” Santana explained, “that’s what acting is, faking your way through stuff, making people believe that you’ve really been through what your character is going through.”

She locked up the diner and they began the walk back to Mercedes’ place.

“How?” Finn felt hopeless, “We film it on Monday, I don’t have time to magically improve my stomach muscles.”

“It’s not about what you’ve got, per se,” Santana said, “it’s about conveying to an audience that you know you’re sexy, and feel good about yourself.”

“Huh?” Finn didn’t think he could do that, “You’ve lost me.”

“In reality you might have buck teeth or a big scar on you’re face,” Santana gave him an example, “But if you smile and walk tall, you are sending a message that you’re comfortable in your own skin, that’s what people pick up on, and it helps them see you as sexy too.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Sure.”

“Pre-implants?” Finn asked, spontaneously. Then he realized that was probably a no-go topic.

Santana was taken aback by his comment. Narrowing her gaze to his eyes to decipher his meaning.

Obviously, everyone knew. Coach Sue had nicknamed Santana ‘sandbags’ and used it in front of the school. But he’d never mentioned her surgery, _ever_. And Finn didn’t think Santana had wanted people to know, but once the word was out, she’d simply owned it. But he’d seen the other side of it, in that motel room sophomore year. She wouldn’t let him touch her bare chest, only through the padded nightgown.

“I’m not taking a shot,” Finn made it clear he wasn’t attacking her, “I just mean, it’s easy to feel confident now that you look like… a Victoria’s Secret model.”

Santana thought back, “Then it was even more important to sell it. Back in the ‘ironing board’ days, I’d stuff my bra and show off my legs instead.”

Finn nodded, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to apply that to his situation.

“Which was easier in a Cheerios’ uniform,” She admitted.

He explained, “It’s gonna be my bare chest and a towel, not much way to distract from anything.”

“I agree you don’t want to distract from your torso,” Santana agreed, “But you need to use your face effectively.”

“My face?”

“What is the intention of the scene? Is Marisol embarrassed?” Santana questioned. “Is there eye sex happening? How soon is there going to be more between them?”

Finn was at a loss, “I think they are playing it like, it’s an accident, but she can’t help but stare.”

“Then you need to act chuffed she’s checking you out, waggle your eye brows, look amused. And pull your shoulders back, you’re not ashamed, you’re flattered she thinks you’re hot!”

“But I’m not hot,” He said quietly.

“You are!” Santana simply stated, “And more importantly, you need to convince everyone that you believe it.” 

They walked in the door now. And Santana peeled off her jacket and hung it up. Finn went and sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. He just knew it was going to be a disaster.

Santana stood in her red waitress outfit, “Didn’t you say you’re wet as well?”

Finn didn’t see why that mattered particularly, “Yeah, I’m meant to have just gotten out of the shower.”

Santana’s mouth curled up deviously at one side, “Follow me,” She instructed, disappearing into the bathroom.

Finn did as she bid. Santana’s uniform was on the floor and she was in the shower before he got to see anything. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and waited. He was getting excited knowing she was in there and naked, the glass cubicle was frosted so he could only see her outline. She wasn’t long scrubbing the day’s work off her body. Finn heard the water turn off, and he grabbed her towel and waited.

Santana only slid the door open a foot, and one leg came out first, painfully slowly, with water running down her silky thigh then her calf.

Finn involuntarily licked his lips.

Santana glided out, not embarrassed in the least, smiling artfully as she accepted the towel he was holding, fastening it around her waist, the way he would be expected too. Finn couldn’t help but gape at her breasts on full display. Santana cocked a wicked eyebrow at him, and then she shimmied her shoulders ever so slightly while she twisted her hair to wring it out, which made the water drain out of her dark tresses and run down her chest in long streaks. One of the drips ran the length of her breast pooling at the tip of her nipple. She was mesmerizing. Finn was hard, and shaking a little just watching her.

Santana was self-satisfied, fully aware of the effect she was having on him. She slowly leaned over, pulling him up to standing.

She whispered seductively, “Now you try.”

The next Finn knew he was on his knees, licking those drops of water off her perfect tits and pulling her towards him, and tugging the end of the towel. He wanted to show her how badly he wanted her, right here, right now. Santana looked amused by his loss of control. Like that had been her intention all along. 

_How am I ever going to go slow with you?_

_Damn it!_

He’d wrapped his arms around her waist, to catch his breath, because he was heaving, because he was trying so hard to control himself. He hugged his face into her tummy, his cheek pressed up against her amazing stomach muscles.

He admitted, “I don’t think I can… do that.”

“Just try,” She said, running a hand through his hair.

Finn hit the shower now and started to handle his own situation, since Santana had gotten him hot and bothered. He heard a knock on the glass, shocking him from his sweet fantasy.

She warned, seeming to know what he was up to, “It might be better if you aren’t _relieved_.”

“Are you trying to torture me?”

“Your choice,” She said retreating from the room. 

Finn wasn’t about to give himself blue balls as well! This whole thing was hard enough, he didn’t want to crack a fat with the cameras rolling on Monday, either… _that would be mortifying!_

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt about the whole thing. He brought himself back thinking about Santana with water cascading down her breasts…

Once he’d ‘taken care of business’. Finn shut the water off and took a few deep breaths.

Santana was waiting with a towel, she was now in her pajamas. Finn didn’t need to be naked in the scene. So, he opened the door and snatched the cloth and went back in until he had it firmly fastened.

_I can do this._ _I feel confident and sexy._

He stepped out looking her in the eye. She was standing as Marisol would be. Santana did a thoroughly unsubtle glance down his entire length and all the way back up again, and Finn felt his resolve crumble, he moved to cover his nipples with his hands.

“I can’t do this!”

Santana gripped his shoulders, forcing Finn to look at her. “Try it again,” She instructed, “but this time, imagine that I’m standing before you naked and dripping wet, and you can’t wait to do all manner of dirty things to me.”

“Santana!”

“I mean it!” She was completely serious, “You want to look sexy, think about something that turns you on.”

Finn tried again, “Fine. But I’m fastening the towel first, I’m not you!”

“If you insist,” She said, exaggerating her disappointment with an eye roll.

He tried it her way. He was visualizing them up to… _stuff_ as he stepped out this time, looking her up and down, and running a hand loosely through his hair to get the water to cascade down his chest. And then Finn realized she was filming him with her phone.

“What the _fuck!_ ”

“That was perfect!” Santana exclaimed.

She stopped him from retreating back into the glass receptacle. She showed him the recording of his entrance, all 10 seconds of it. Finn could see a difference, he looked poised as he’d stepped out, and the hand through his hair causing the dripping of water to run down his body added a level of sex to his performance. But it was the way he’d looked at her was the kicker. Obviously, you couldn’t see what he was looking at in the video but it was clear he was looking at someone he found attractive and the heat sort of existed on the screen.

Santana was really pleased, “Now you just need to do that on Monday, and not let anything put you off.”

They did it a few more times just to be sure. And Finn found himself getting so carried away, he wanted to toss the whole ‘let’s go slow’ thing into the trash. He could see it in her eyes, she wanted him to make the first move. She knew she couldn’t, because he’d insisted they dial things back, and she was honoring his wishes.

“I better make up the couch,” He finally said, “Big day tomorrow.”

But Finn was staring at her luscious lips, remembering back, moments earlier to her curves, cascading with water. _Why did I want to go slow again?_

She stared back, longingly herself, smiling but unsatisfied, and nodded, “Goodnight.”

Santana slipped quietly into her room, and Finn remained standing by the couch, in the dark for a long time. Finn just about gave himself wrist strain that evening and befouled about every sock he had.

)))))))))))))

Puck had secured a tiny 2-bedroom apartment two blocks from Mercedes’ flat, which Finn was happy about. It was cheaper, too, since Puck couldn’t afford much. The fact that the toilet barely flushed, the shower pressure sucked and you couldn’t run the microwave and toaster at the same time without blowing a fuse, well not so awesome.

Finn didn’t have a lot of stuff, but most of it was still in Santana’s room. She sat on the bed watching him take his possessions. She was trying to be helpful and got a trash bag and started to sort his items into piles.

Finn watched her toss the coasters he’d kept from Backstage Bar.

“No… not those, I want to keep them.”

Santana pulled a face, “Why?”

“From our first… proper date.”

Finn had enjoyed that night of karaoke, and remembered how she’d invited him to sing that Rhianna song with her, asking him to stay. So, he’d kept a souvenir. The coasters had the venue logo on them, and made him feel warm and fuzzy remembering back.

Santana thought it was hilarious, shaking her head as if he were hopeless handing them back.

“And Britt thinks I should be on ‘Hoarders’!”

She took a big bag of his clothes to her car to help out. While Finn took the opportunity to take a dirty pair of her panties from her hamper, the red lacey ones that were his favorite. They also had sentimental value from the night that started all of this. He hoped she wouldn’t notice, because it made him feel pathetic, and a little creepy.

They really only needed two car loads. At the other end, he gave her the tour. All ten steps of it, because you couldn’t swing a cat in any room. Santana said it was ‘nice’ insincerely.

“What do you _really_ think?”

“I’m glad this place is such a shithole,” Santana was frank, “so when you forgive me you will want to move back to Mercedes’ place _extra_ bad.”

Finn couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

Santana helped him construct his makeshift wardrobe. She also got him a thoughtful housewarming gift, a power board and 2 extension cords, which wasn’t a fun gift, but totally practical. Because he’d mentioned to her in passing that the place was a built in the pre-war period, and each room only had a single power point with 2 sockets.

)))))))))))))))))))))))

As soon as Mercedes and Santana had left though having helped with the move. It was just the two of them. Between Puck and Finn they didn’t really have the practical stuff they needed to live anywhere, like cutlery, a toilet brush, plates, Finn had a single mug he occasionally drink coffee from, that was it.

“Dude, we need to hit Walmart,” Puck stated.

“Yep.”

_And who’s gonna cook now?_

_Grilled cheese it is, for breakfast, lunch and dinner!_

Finn had gotten a mattress second-hand even though that wasn’t considered sanitary. Finn had flopped into bed Saturday night, exhausted, hoping he wasn’t going to wake up with bed bugs.

))))))))))))

And then finally it was Sunday and he was looking forward to his mystery date. Santana rocked up wearing a red V-neck dress, with an asymmetrical line hemmed with ruffles. Finn didn’t know so much about fashion, but it looked like a Latin tango dress. Finn thought she looked stunning and she had a red flower in her hair that Santana had left unrestrained. He had black pants and a white shirt on. 

She smiled, “You look perfect!”

“You look… hot!”

Which was met with an artfully raised eyebrow.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see!”

Santana drove them to Downtown L.A. As they got closer there were cordoned off streets and lots of pedestrians.

Santana finally said, “Fiesta Broadway.”

“What’s that?”

“A Latin Festival, the largest in the country.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Like half a million people attend, once a year.”

“Wow!”

“There’s dancing, and Latin food, and it’s fun.”

He asked of her, “Have you ever been?”  
“I’d never been to L.A. before now.”

“Cool,” Finn nodded contemplative, “I like that we get to do it together for the first time.”

They parked and had to walk a long way, there were tents with street food. Santana would order in Spanish and get him to try samples of like everything, there was this taro kind of texture, she said it was plantains, mixed in salty garlic with chucks of pork and crackling on the top. Finn was in heaven.

The next was kind of like a biscuit, but not. Santana said it was ripe plantains fried until they are sweet inside. _Amarillos._

Another tent had a huge spit going with coals underneath slow roasting a whole pig with crispy skin outside and soft meat that was so tender it fell apart on the fork.

“This is a traditional Puerto Rican dish, mi Abuela makes this, it’s called Lechón asado,” Santana held up a fork full and he opened wide since his hands were full of other samples.

The skin was crunchy and salty, and had a bit of a kick, peppers, oregano, maybe vinegar.

“Abelita’s is much better, but still. It’s good, right?” Santana was looking at him, expectant.

“So good,” He could hardly manage to say because his mouth was still full.

Santana got him to try a spicy rice and beans dish that was too chilli hot for him, and Finn just about had to spit it out. She looked amused, like she was testing him. He drank water, but that just seemed to make it worse.

“You’re diluting your saliva,” Santana said, shaking her head.

Lots of people were just walking around in shorts and T-shirts, and some people had on Brazil Soccer jerseys, or Sombreros, there was a mariachi band. Santana kept pointing out where it was clearly gimmicky and not authentic, to downright insulting.

They slowly made their way to Grand Park, where there was a stage and lots of people watching, and dancing to the contemporary Latin music. Some was jazz, some was more hip-hop fusion. It was nice. As it got to be later afternoon, Santana wanted to dance. Finn not so much.

“Latin dancing is really different to what we do in show choir,” Santana commented, “It’s more about feeling the music, than kick-ball-change.”

“I’m pretty sure, I can’t do either,” Finn objected.

Santana offered, “Let me show you what I mean.”

There was live music and a big band of lots of instruments Finn had never seen and bongos and other metallic sounding percussion started to play.

“I love this song, it’s Sergio Mendes,” Santana said, to Finn’s blank expression. “‘Magalenha’,” As if that was supposed to mean something to him, “It’s a Samba rhythm.”

The song had strong percussion, like tapping on a metal drum, followed by large drums, like a timpani, but hit with hands. He didn’t understand a word of the lyrics but it sounded really festive and sensual.

“I’m not gonna teach you how to Samba, Finn,” Santana spoke authoritatively, “Just sway with me.”

She held him in close, her hands met at the back of his head and he held her waist. She moved with the beat, side to side with her hips, encouraging him to match her movement.

“Follow my lead,” She said.

Finn tried to be all loose and carefree and in time to the beat as she was. He was failing miserably. She was more dancing sexily around him. And Finn could see about 20 guys eyeing Santana wondering what the fuck she was doing with him. Finn decided to sit and watch her. But Santana insisted. The next song was one he recognized from the radio, but only stations that play hits from the 80s and 90s.

“Lambada,” Santana smiled, “this is perfect.”

Finn wasn’t sure at all.

“It’s about being lose and just feeling the rhythm.”

She had him bend his knees, and she put one thigh between his legs, and so they were kind of interlocked, and they held each other close and then she sort of swayed her hips sideways, while taking tiny steps, barely moving anywhere, just swapping her weight from one foot to the other. It had the effect of looking like you were bobbing up and down but in a very… evocative way.

Finn could see other couples doing it, a lot of them older. But, he could see what she meant, it was about passion not technique.

_This is basically sex_. But standing with clothes on. “It’s very… suggestive,” he commented.

Santana chuckled at his obvious discomfort, cocking her eyebrow, “Well, it is called the forbidden dance.” She pulled on his hand to get his attention, “Forget everything else,” She instructed, “Close your eyes.”

Which he did. 

“Now just try to feel it,” Santana instructed. 

There was some kind of piano accordion, and bongos. There was something striking about the music, jovial but also sad. Not that he really understood, since the lyrics were in Spanish. And he’d basically forgotten everything from that class.

“Just be loose, and let me guide you.”

And Finn did, he listened and moved when he felt her pushing, or pulling.

“That’s good, Finn!” She whispered into his ear, because her cheek was almost grazing his.

“What are the words?” He was curious.

“It’s how this guy who didn’t appreciate the woman he had, leaves crying because he finds out she’s moved on, and all he has now are the memories.”

Finn opened his eyes, and nodded, “It makes sense, the music, the tune, you can hear that it’s about longing.”

Santana was impressed, he could see it in her face. She smiled, and said to try it again. They did find a rhythm together and to the beat of the drums. One of his hands was low on her back, he could feel all the movement of her hips, how naturally it seemed to come to her. His other hand was holding her hand, their bodies were so close and he could feel her heat. With the close proximity of their… ahem… groins, it also got pretty awkward on his end.

“Looser, like floppy,” Santana said of his body, “it’s not like other dances, you have a frame, but you have to relax.”

And it was quite fast the stepping and swaying as one, that kind of made the whole dance appear as thrusting. Finn was getting hot and bothered again.

_This is what attempting to go slow with Santana Lopez looks like._

Santana made a bridge with their hands, and twirled under, encouraging him to touch her waist with his other hand, then she went back the other way. Then she repeated it. By the third time he was ready for her. 

“I’m gonna dip,” Santana announced mere moments before she leaned backwards.

Finn didn’t even have time to overthink how he was going to drop her, he got his arm in behind her for support, and braced himself. She did it slowly and elegantly, right back.

_She’s so beautiful._

Then the bridge was finished and they were back to the hip thrusting and quick stepping again as the song came to its conclusion. 

An older woman got their attention by clapping loudly, and spoke to Santana. Santana went over and they appeared to be swapping numbers. When Santana came back she showed Finn a video the woman had filmed of them dancing.

“She said my tall, handsome, sweetheart dances well.”

Finn waited for Santana to say ‘psyche’ or something, because she had to be poking fun, he was a terrible dancer and everyone knew it. Even with booty camp, he’d gone from one star out of ten to 2.5!

But she didn’t appear to be joking, and Santana played the video that had been sent to her phone.

“You’re better when you don’t think about it and just feel the music,” She held the screen up to him.

Finn watched closely. He had to admit they actually did look really good together, in time, but mostly, just, hot! Santana’s dress would fan out when she twisted, revealing well up her thighs. And at one point she had him dip her backwards slowly, that was very erotic. His attempts not to drop her meant he’d gotten really low, and leaning over such that his face seemed to land in her bust then slowly trace down to her stomach. He did feel a tinge of pride seeing it. It was certainly much better than he would have thought.

Finn suggested a rest. They drank Sangria and watched the sunset. It was really nice, and he liked that she was including him in her culture.

“Were you born in Puerto Rico?” Finn asked as they sat on long stools near the street vendor tents sipping their cocktails from long glasses with mini umbrellas.

“No, I was born in Ohio, but everyone else in my immediate family was.”

“When did they move?”

“When Angel was about two,” She said, before adding, “my second brother.”

“And your oldest brother?”

“He’s 2 years older than Angel, Carlito. He’s an accountant. Married. Boring.”

“What’s Angel doing?”

“He finished a business degree last year at Ohio State,” before adding, “He's working in insurance.”

“What do your parents think about you pursuing performing?” He asked.

“My Mom understood why I wanted to, of course, but she kept trying to warn me how hard it is out here.”

“And your… do you call him your dad? Is that who you mean when you are talking about your father?”

“Yeah,” Santana said quietly, “he’s a crap father, but he’s the only one I have,” Santana sighed, “He wanted me to go to college, get qualified to ‘do a real job’,” Santana held up her fingers making air quotes to animate her storytelling, “so I’ll have something to fall back on when my pipe dreams are ultimately dashed.”

“Did he really say it like that?”  
“That’s what he meant,” Santana smirked, “He actually couldn’t give two shits what I do. Which is good.”

She shrugged it off as if she wasn’t hurt by any of it, which obviously wasn’t true. But Finn left it at that.

"Why do they still live in Lima Heights Adjacent?" Finn asked.

"Because that's where Lima stashes it's ethnics," Santana shot back.

"I just meant, your dad's a doctor, can't you guys afford to move?"

"Not in the beginning we couldn't," Santana said, "He wasn't qualified here and his English wasn't good enough. They struggled pretty hard the first ten years. And by the time we could afford it, well, I guess we kind of like our little slice of Puerto Rico in Ohio." She shrugged.

"That makes sense," Finn agreed. He wanted to ask to meet them, but stopped himself.

Finn just couldn't seem to help himself, “Maybe now that he’s had some time, your biological dad would like to… get to know you?” Finn suggested, “Maybe you caught him by surprise Junior Year.”

Santana drained her glass slowly, clearly considering it.

Finn kept at the encouragement, “What’s his name? What’s his band called?”

“Why? So, you can track him down,” Santana got defensive.

“He’s out there,” Finn responded, “this person who loves music, who you might have a lot in common with who… might want to have some kind of a relationship with you.”

“Finn!” She was annoyed, “Just stop, okay. You can’t _fix_ this!”

But he couldn’t stop himself, “What about your abuela?”

“What about her!” Santana snapped.

“It’s been well over a year now, maybe if you try calling her…”

“Nothing’s changed, she doesn’t want to talk to me,” Santana was speaking louder now as she got more annoyed, “The first thing she’ll want to know is if I’m still a lesbian, and…” Santana’s face changed, “Oh, that’s it, you think I’ll tell her I have a boyfriend now and all will be forgiven?”

Finn shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“She doesn’t accept me,” Santana repeated, “she’s the one that needs to change. Not me!”

Finn backed right off that. He hadn’t thought through the suggestion to reach out to her grandmother.

“Finn, what are you trying to do here? Organize a fucking family reunion for me?!”

“No, I just…”

“What?”

“You don’t have…” _much support._

Santana snapped, “I can take care of myself!”

“I know you can,” Finn raised his hands in surrender, “I just want to help, you’ve helped me so much.”

Santana calmed a bit, and finished her drink, and asked him if he wanted another. Finn said ‘no’, he’d happily be the designated driver. Santana strolled off to get another Sangria, signifying that this conversation was now clearly over.

She drank the next glass of dark red liquid far too fast.

“Let’s dance some more,” Santana was pulling him up before she’d even spoken. 

The sun had set and there were tea lights, and chains of lamps lighting up the streets of all different colors. There were still so many people about. Finn agreed and they cuddled for a slow song.

“This song is off my Mom’s favourite album,” Santana told him as he held her close.

“I don’t know it,” He admitted.

“It’s old, I wouldn’t expect you to,” Santana rested her chin on his shoulder, “Salli Terri is a mezzosoprano like my Mom, and that’s Laurindo Almeida on the Spanish guitar.”

It was beautiful, almost haunting. The sound was otherworldly.

“Pavane, op 50,” She named the song.

He whispered “thank you,” He meant for sharing. This was hard for her and she was really trying.

Santana leaned in and kissed him. Just a peck. And Finn reciprocated. And soon they weren’t so much dancing as just making out in public. He kept his hands to her back, and she was more or less being PG-13 about her ministrations as well.

The song finished and she broke away from him, opening her eyes.

“Please, Finn,” Was all she said.

_She wants me to take her home and stay the night._

He wanted to, but he knew it would just be making the same mistake twice.

“Let’s get out of here,” He suggested.

Santana smiled wickedly. Finn could barely remember where she’d parked, and then he had to get the keys off her. Santana was quite drunk. Finn had heard his Mom say of Sangria that it crept up on you. You felt fine one moment, then you’d go to get up and fall over. She was swaying on her low heels.

Finn held the door open and helped her in, without Santana being snarky about it. She put the window down and was holding her arm out, feeling the wind through her fingers as he drove. He stopped at lights and she yelled something at a pedestrian. Finn wasn’t sure if she was in a good mood or a bad mood.

Santana finally put the window up.

“Did you have funnn?” She slurred.

“Yeah,” He smiled taking his eyes off the road briefly to glance at her, “I did.”

“So, are you my boyfriend now?” Santana asked, “or am I still on probation?”

“I’m your boyfriend, and this isn’t punishment,” Finn explained, “I’m trying to make our relationship stronger.”

That was met with a long silence.

“Are you already to be sexxxyyy?” She asked, “for your big scene tomorrow.”

“I think so.”

“You know what helps you feel sexy…” Santana was clearly steering this conversation into the gutter, “…having hot sex.”

He was determined to ignore all her attempts at getting him to do the deed with her. But he was willing to help her get into bed, since she was more than a little tipsy. However, there was one way he wouldn’t mind taking the slight advantage.

“What’s your father’s name again? The sax player?”

“What?”

“What’s his name? You’re Mom’s old boyfriend?”

“Finnnnn!” Santana let her annoyance show that he was trying to revisit this topic, “He’s a fucking prick!” Before adding, “Like all the other men in my life!”

“Except for me, right?” Finn jibed.  
“Except for you,” She begrudgingly conceded.

“And Mr Schue.”

“And Mr Schue,” She repeated.

“There’s hope for us Y chromosomes, yet,” He grinned boyishly.

Santana fiddled with the radio for a bit, but wasn’t happy when she only found talking on every station. Eventually smacking the off button in disgust.

“Desmond Ortega Jr,” She suddenly told him the information he sought.

“And his band?”

“The _Orfeu Negro_.”

“Or-foo Negra?”

She laughed, “ _Orfeu Negro_ , it means ‘Black Orpheus’.”

There was another long silence.

She crossed her arms, “He doesn’t give a ssshhit,” Her voice conveyed more than anger though, there was pain.

The rest of the drive was silent. 

)))))))

They were back at Mercedes’ house now, and he was parking.

Santana finally said, “You do what you’re gonna do,” She slurred, “but if he doesn’t want to see me, I don’t wanna know about it.” 

With that she slammed the door.

He walked her in, and helped her change and brush her teeth, and he made her drink a big glass of water. Santana clearly had other plans, she pounched on his lips, kissing him while backing him into her room.

Finn raising his hands in passive resistance, “This isn’t taking things slow.”

“The sex wasn’t the pprrroblem…” She whined. “The problem’s that you still love that _fucking_ …” Santana paused to think of an insult.

Finn took the opportunity to pick her up over his shoulder and carry her into the bedroom, and then leaned over to let her fall onto the mattress. Finn didn’t want to fight and he didn’t want to keep reminding her of the rules, that just seemed to piss her off, even though she’d agreed to it.

Before he could leave, she grabbed his hand, tugging him, “Stay.”

_What if she’s really upset? I kept asking her about her bio dad._

Finn pulled up the covers, and laid on the outside of the bed. He leaned against her, so he was her big spoon. Santana wanted to turn over on her side towards him so they could kiss, but Finn held her, and kept kissing her neck to discourage her.

“Finn,” Santana said, “come here.” She tried to roll onto her back, so she could pull him down on top of her.

He indulged her a little, she turned enough to get her mouth to his. They kissed slowly, but he wasn’t letting it go any further. Santana kept trying to take his jacket off and unbutton his shirt. He eventually interwove their fingers to hold her hands still.

He laid over her more and more, and it was comforting, and nice and sweet and full of heat too. In a rare moment she broke contact to catch her breath, Finn took the opportunity to ask more questions.

“Do you ever think about where you want to end up? Like best case scenario.”

“I don’t know,” She dismissed it honestly, “it’s hard to think like that.”

Finn queried it, “How do you go after what you want if you can’t even admit you want it?”  
She shrugged, “I don’t know, sometimes I imagine being famous, and I have fans who recognize me and I’ve won awards, and I think I’ve always wanted to do it all you know, acting, singing, dancing.”

Finn listened and wondered what that dream looked like.

“You?” She asked, half dozing off by now.

“I don’t know either, I just have a vague sense that I’m performing, and I love it, I love the rush.”

Finn kept a firm hold of Santana, and gently kissed her but it didn’t take long to hear her slowed breathing, and cute snoring noises.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn woke at what seemed to be the middle of the night with his phone alarm going off somewhere, not close enough to reach.

He felt Santana stirring next to him. He found the offending instrument in his jacket pocket on the floor near the bed eventually. It was pitch black. And that was his alarm. And he felt way too tired. He got himself organized. Santana rolled over and said something about a splitting headache. He found her some aspirin and offered her more water.

Once Santana was functioning enough, she went through the bathroom scene again with him, the way they’d practiced it on Friday. He kissed her good bye, walked the couple of blocks home and frantically got changed. He didn’t run that morning, Finn decided to do lots of sit ups instead. But nothing was quite getting rid of his nerves.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))0

Santana was lazing on the couch at midday, with a still pounding head. _So much for not getting messy!_ _Why does Finn always have to be up in my business! Just because he’s a girl who likes talking about his feelings all the time!_ Other than her overdoing it, she felt the date had gone well, and that he was letting her back in. She really wished he’d lighten up on the ‘no sex yet’ thing, though, because she was about ready to explode. 

Her phone rang. The screen displayed ‘Lumps’. _I really need to change that._

“Did you forget something?” Santana asked, because Finn didn’t often call her when he was working. 

He sounded panicked, “I can’t do this!”

“What’s going on, Finn?”

“Well, there’s like… twenty, middle-aged men standing around holding cameras and microphones and lights, all looking bored while I’m stepping out of a fake shower, sopping wet in a towel and trying to look sexy.”

“Oh,” She hadn’t thought of that.

“The director’s being polite, but every take he just keeps saying, ‘okay, let’s try that again’” Finn’s voice became angry scared, “ _Because I suck!_ ”

“No, it’s okay,” She desperately tried to think of something encouraging or a solution or anything to help him. _He needs to find his mojo._ “My Mom once told me, the main thing you need as an actor, is an imagination.”

She knew he was listening intently, but he remained silent on the other end.

“Close your eyes,” She said, “you need to be able to block it all out, they aren’t there, it’s just you and me in the bathroom, like we were on Friday. Nothing. Else. Matters.”

Finn was calming down, “It’s just you and me. Nothing else matters.”

She smiled, “It’s just you and me back in that motel room after the reception…”

She let him start imagining the fantasy. “It’s your birthday, and I have asked you what you want for your present and you say…”

She waited to let him conjure up his desire. Finn didn’t seem to know what she was doing at first.

She kept encouraging him, “You can make any sexy request of me you want…”

Finn took his time, “I can magically afford to take you out to a fancy restaurant, where they have like table clothes and waiters on standby to fill up your wine glass every time it gets low.”

“Sounds nice,” Santana kept prodding him to continue, “we eat a beautiful meal together and then…”

“We go for a drive above the Hollywood Hills and look out at all the lights.”  
 _He’s such a girl!_ Santana rolled her eyes. _Get to the sex!_

She didn’t get a chance to say anything though, because Finn spoke again, “And we talk about stuff, like life, what we want, and you turn to me, and without teasing or joking or being sarcastic or snarky, you tell me that you love me.”

Santana just about dropped the phone. _This is not the point of the exercise! Trust Finn Hudson to FUCK UP talking dirty!_

“… and I feel so happy and I tell you ‘I love you too’ and we kiss under the stars, and I feel really close to you, and like everything is falling into place…”

Finn was pouring his heart out for God knows what reason, and Santana was checking her watch and thinking she really needed to be someplace else.

He had no idea on the other end, “And you’re really happy… like maybe you just found out you landed a TV show, like a romantic comedy or something, playing the mean girl who makes snide comments at all the nerds,” Finn added.

_His fantasy involves me getting a job that would make me happy?_  
Santana covered her mouth on the other end of the line. _Deep breaths, come on, you can do this_.

Finn was none the wiser, “and then I take you back to the fancy motel, in my dream it’s a Marriott, I looked into renting one of those honeymmm… fancy suites once,” He said.

_Why would he have rented a honeymoon suite?_

_He means with Rachel._

Santana remained silent, at least he was getting to the sex now.

“Maybe we order champagne and the room is really nice, like it’s all white and matching, with satin pillow cases on the bed and those little mints… and there’s like… a bath tub, and I run the water and we get in together and you let me wash your body.”

_I don’t deserve you._

“I want to wash your hair, is that weird?” He suddenly asked, “Like massage your scalp and have the shampoo like foaming through my fingers. Anyway, you’re in my arms, leaning against my chest…”

“That sounds really nice,” She hoped he couldn’t hear her voice cracking with emotion.

“Anyway, once we’ve had lots of fun in the bath and made this big mess that I don’t have to worry about cleaning up…” Finn spoke like a working class kid who’d never allowed themselves to dream too big, “we get in the massive bed, and we feel all fancy and carefree and everything, and then we make love.”

She tried to control her breathing because her eyes were stinging too.

_No wonder you can’t fake sexual attraction with a stranger._

_Finn Hudson, you’re too good for this world!_

Finn was still laying out his dream, “and it’s really nice, and we both enjoy it, and I like staring into your eyes, and I can feel that you love and trust me and I feel the same about you. And that’s what makes it better.”

There was a long silence.

“Santana?” Finn asked now, “you still there?”

“Yeah.”  
“You know, it is my birthday and your birthday really soon, maybe we could do that for real?” Finn suggested, “I can afford it, since this show, somewhere halfway decent, anyway.”

Santana genuinely didn’t know what to do, she needed to remind him to focus, because he still needed to prepare for his scene, she couldn’t commit to a date like that and she just wanted to be someplace else because she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Did I freak you out?” Finn realized what the problem was, “I’m not trying to rush you, we don’t have to do that yet…”

So, she just decided to ignore everything that was too much right now, and get back to the task at hand, “So we’re in that big bed at the Marriot, am I on top, or are you?”

“You are, then I am,” He explained.

“Okay, let’s go from there,” Santana steered the conversation, “I’m naked and I’m straddling your hips, and your big cock is hard in my hand as I work my fingers up and down your length.”

“What are you doing right now?”

Even though she knew that wasn’t what he meant, she lowered her voice to seductive, “I’m naked and touching myself thinking about how badly I want you…”

He got annoyed, “No, I mean, I’m telling you ‘I love you’, and you’re trying to have phone sex with me.”

“I was trying to help you… with the scene,” She replied, weakly, knowing it was a completely inadequate thing to say.

He sighed on the other end of the phone. “I’ll do what you said, thanks for the advice,” Finn said, clearly wrapping up the conversation, “I better go.”

“Good luck,” Was also she managed to say before he hung up.

_Fuck!_

_I blew it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs;  
> Magalenha, Brasilero, by Sergio Mendes  
> Lambada, Kaoma  
> Pavane op 50, For my true love, Laurindo Almeida


	12. Little Death

_5 more minutes._ She couldn’t help but watch the clock all the time. God, she hated this job.

She checked her phone for the 100th time, no messages from Finn either. _Bad sign._ She hoped rather than expected him to walk her home. If he didn’t show, it probably meant he’d tanked.

Santana had spoken to Britt during her dinner break and got the more detailed version of how New Directions had won Regionals. Well, Brittany level of detailed anyway… she tended to remember really random things in lots of detail and leave out major stuff. While Santana was happy for Glee Club, she was thrilled that in only six short weeks Brittany would be coming to L.A. for Nationals. At least that was something to look forward to. That, and shooting _CSI_ at the Santa Clarita Studios next week.

)))))) 

Santana knew it had worked out the moment she saw him. Finn was glowing. He bounded over and pulled her into a hug and swung her around and started placing sloppy kisses on her neck.

It was obvious, but she wanted him to tell her in his words, “Spill, Hudson!”

“I did what you said, and it worked!” Finn had his hands on her shoulders now, “You’re _so_ awesome!”

Santana got her coat and the baggy of now, cold, jam doughnut. Finn refused again.

“I think they must be planning more nudity for me,” He said, halting the gesture with his hand.

He was so excited, “The director was so happy, we did three takes to be sure, but he said I nailed it!” Finn was giddy, “That’s the best complement he’s given me so far…”

He looked so happy.

“Earlier I thought they were going to fire me.”

“I had no doubt you could pull it off,” Santana said, accepting yet another hug.

“You know, L.A. has a Marriot,” Finn didn’t remotely segue into the next conversation, “I Googled it while I was between scenes, we could book it for this weekend if you can get someone to cover Saturday night for you.”

Santana didn’t want to go there, or be reminded of that earlier conversation. So, she just kind of nodded weakly, and hoped he wouldn’t keep talking.

Finn had his arm around her as they walked, and she could feel his hand lazily rubbing her back as they strolled back to Mercedes’ place. Santana could feel that pulse in her undies as she felt herself getting wet with anticipation. She wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer tonight. And the closer they got to the door, the more she was sure Finn wasn’t going to put up any resistance.

They were barely even inside when she turned and grabbed his brown suede jacket collar and pinned him against the door as it slammed shut. She accosted his mouth, and devoured him with her tongue, using her hands to pull his jacket down and off his shoulders. Finn was caught unaware, but quickly recovered and matched her intensity. His hands came down the side of her thighs to behind, pulling her up to straddle his hips. He walked them awkwardly over to the kitchen. Moments later, he was laying her down on the cold, marble countertop. She smirked wickedly, as Finn grinned, prying her thighs apart. She felt that tingle as his fingers gently brushed her sensitive skin. He reached under her dress, trying to pull her panties off.

Light suddenly flooded the room.

“Seriously!”

It was Mercedes.

_Busted!_

“We eat on that bench!” Their friend exclaimed.

They both froze, looking like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Santana was still on the countertop with her legs spread, still in those high leather boots, with Finn standing between with a tent poking up from his jeans. 

“You two need to take your behinds into your room!” Mercedes laid down the law, “And keep the volume down!”

She made an exaggerated swoosh of her weave, “All this _doesn’t_ just happen,” Mercedes also wiggled her butt with a bit of extra somethin’ to punctuate her point, “I need my rest.”

_A+ for the sassiness._

Santana probably would have added a finger snap, or a head tilt on the last word. But still, _nice!_

Mercedes was really blossoming now that she was out from under Rachel’s shadow. It was a great transformation to witness. Finn brought her back to the present, he was looking down at her all guilty. Mercedes was gone and her door jamb clicked and they remained still for a long moment. And then, they both burst out laughing. She couldn’t contain it. Santana couldn’t suck enough air in, she was hysterical. And Finn had this “he he he” sound he did when he was embarrassed laughing.

All the stress that Santana had been feeling about how she’d wrecked the best thing to happen to her since Brittany, seemed to dissipate. And then wrecked it again, _earlier_. The best guy in the world was pouring his heart out to her and she couldn’t even manage to say something nice in return. Santana initiated the move by hopping down from the kitchen counter and taking Finn’s hand and leading him over her shoulder into her room.

He was still in his flannel shirt, and blue ‘Dad’ jeans.

_I really need to take him shopping now that he can afford it._

_He’s such a dork!_ She smiled inwardly, _but he’s my dork._

She wanted him naked. Santana ripped his shirt open, a button may have gone flying. And then she was relieving him of his pants. Finn peeled off those tighty whities revealing his semi. Santana stared mischievously at his _package,_ because on some level she wanted him to be more comfortable and less inhibited about sex. The Finn Hudson that felt the need to shower in a shirt, wasn’t the guy who could have pulled off that sexy bathroom scene today on Stage 31.

She pushed him back on her black duvet cover, with the black satin pillows. She stood at the foot of the bed, with him watching on, as she made a show of disrobing. He was licking his lips as she slowly unzipped her boots, and unpinned her hair, and unfastened that red waitress uniform. She opened the dress out and let it fall off her shoulders standing before him. She was wearing a matching lacy lavender bra and panties today, and Finn was gazing on intently, like he was hungry for her.

Santana leaned over and resumed kissing his mouth, and allowed her hands to trail down his chest, tickling him, exciting him. But it was Finn who pulled her in tight, getting her to kneel above him on the bed, as he held the back of her thighs.

“After that talk earlier,” Finn looked mischievous, “it got me thinking about what I wanted to do when I saw you…”

His face was practically in her lace-covered cleavage, gripping her waist. Santana was impressed he was asserting himself and decided to see where this was going. She was curious as to what request he might be about to make though, because Finn wasn’t entirely sure what he really liked yet, he hadn’t tried a lot of stuff. But instead of telling her what he wanted, Finn’s hands gently squeezed her breasts, and his mouth kissed its way down her tummy, which felt nice. He began to lean back, until he was lying flat on the bed, near her pillows with Santana kneeling over him at his waist. She leaned forward so she could cover him with her body and kiss his mouth again, but Finn had other plans. He encouraged her to stay upright by holding her with his hands. _Interesting._ He pulled her thighs up nearer to his face. She was kneeling just above his mouth.

 _Is he really going to do that!?_ Santana got even more excited.

Finn kissed her lacey panties, and let his tongue moisten the crotch, while he put his arm around both of her thighs and dragged her even closer. Finn smiled up at her, before most of his head disappeared underneath. He pulled the panties to one side, and then she felt his gentle kisses on her most sensitive fold.

He’d gotten really good at this now. Finn was curious enough and comfortable enough that he’d try different ways. She encouraged him to move up more, so she could steady herself on the headboard, and lean forward more. Tonight, he was gentle and was making little flicking motions with his tongue, up and down right on the underside of her clit.

_Fuck, YES!_

And his touch was featherlight on the inside of her thighs, circling towards her vajayjay. Santana closed her eyes and let her head fall back and tried to just focus on how amazing this felt. 

“You taste so good,” He murmured right into her cooch.

He took her clit gently between his lips, sucking and releasing it long enough to feel a sting of cold, only to mouth her again, and twirl the tip of his tongue ever so lightly over her engorged nub. As Santana felt herself building towards crescendo, she had to resist the urge to thrust right into his face. Finn held her steady. He just kept hitting the spot, and she felt herself jerk with that electricity more and more as she lost control. He looked up at her, with so much love in his eyes. And she couldn’t help but stare back. She doubted her expression matched his though.

She felt his hot breath and slippery tongue touch her just right again. The sensation of being achingly unable to hold any more pleasure inside until eruption overcame her. Santana spasmed, as she cried out and doubled over. She felt so content and so tired after that, sliding to lie over him bringing them face to face. She smiled, slyly, feeling like the Cheshire Cat, and a little light headed. Finn was eager to roll her onto her back and lick up her release while she was still catching her breath.

Santana was too exhausted to do anything. She loved feeling so tired from having such an incredible moment of ecstasy, that her mind was blank, everything that sucked or stressed her out was just gone for a moment. No more mean voice in her head, just peace. Serenity. She stared blankly at the ceiling. She felt little aftershocks as his mouth cleaned her off.

It suddenly dawned on Santana that Finn had spent his free moments today thinking on how _he_ was going to get _her_ off, not what he wanted _her_ to do for _him_. And he wasn’t intimidated or feeling too emasculated to try face sitting.

_Best. Guy. Ever!_

Finn spoke, “I’m sorry about earlier.”

She felt tense at the mention of it. Santana wasn’t sure why he wasn’t still pissed. So, had just been so relieved that he’d seemed to let it go.

“I’m always telling you I need to go slower… with _this_ stuff,” Finn explained, “but I wasn’t listening, earlier you were trying to say you weren’t ready, for _that_ stuff.”

 _Oh thank God!_ She was so worried he’d want her to say it back to him… like now.

Finn kept saying, by way of apology, “I should have heard you.”

She shifted to lie flat on top of him, bringing her face into to his and hugging him to her body. She kissed him with deep feeling behind every motion. Saying what she didn’t have words to express. She cupped his cheeks with her hands, gliding her fingertips across his skin. Finn liked this, even if he wasn’t totally conscious of it, her light touch all over. She then used more force to massage his scalp, scrunching his hair in handfuls. She could see him closing his eyes to concentrate on the sensations.

Santana was still deciding what she was going to do to reward her handsome, sweet beau.

One of the things she really liked about Finn was that he didn’t just expect to be on top, or expect that sex always meant putting his dick in her, or think it was all about _his_ pleasure. Puck had some skills but they were all geared around popping his cork. He couldn’t have cared less if she'd enjoyed herself. 

And it was different to being with Britt. The curve of a woman’s body, the smoothness, sweet lady kisses, it wasn’t the same. But it was still nice. Santana liked teaching Finn different ways, because he’d done little more than missionary before they’d started dating. Finn liked it when she performed oral, but he preferred to be inside her poon. She pulled him up so they were sitting, facing each other.

“Cross your legs,” She ordered.

Finn pulled a face, but he did it, “This is a little… grade school.”

“Trust me, you didn’t do this in elementary,” Santana flashed her brows, artfully, pulling her panties entirely off since they were soaked through.

Finn chuckled at that, and then he stopped as if a thought occurred to him. He opened his mouth to say something then retreated.

She reached out and held his schlong in her hand. He was uncircumcised, and so much more sensitive to her touch than she was used to. Holding her ‘okay’ position, she slowly glided her fingers down his shaft.

“How… how old were you… the first time?” Finn found his voice enough to ask his burning question.

_Why does he always want to talk **during**!_

Santana ignored him, while continuing to ring him all the way up and down. Maybe she could aim to make him forget his question.

“I’m just curious,” Finn stammered, “You know all about my first time.”

Her hand focused on his head while holding him firm at his stem. She barely needed to touch him first, he was rock hard. She got the condom off the night stand and rolled it on to him and used extra water-based lube to get him nice and frictionless. Then Santana positioned herself in Finn’s lap, holding his shoulders so their chests were right up against each other as she eased her punani onto his cock. She did it slowly, pushing up to give herself respite before going again. Once she was comfy, she crossing her own legs behind his back. As far as sex involving guys went, Santana liked this position. It put her in control, and it was a gentle position. A guy couldn’t slam into you from here. Santana used her thighs to decide how deep she took him into her, and she could pull him closer, and they could hug and kiss while they were moving as one. It was a very intimate position because you were so close and facing each other. It had freaked her out when she’d tried it with Matt as a sophomore. He’d been another nice guy who'd really liked her. And of course, Finn was happy that they could stare into each other’s eyes _during_.

Finn reached around her back and unclasped her bra. He was still so excited just by the sight of her boobs. From here she had the choice of bouncing or rocking. She preferred rocking in slow circles, and Finn was too in awe of everything and went with it. It felt best when they were almost in sync, but not quite, like when she’d move her hips forward, and he’d wait until he felt her contact, and then make that contact back. She could hear Finn gasping as he felt himself entering her, sliding deeper inside.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered in a rare moment his lips were free of hers.

As Santana felt her orgasm building deep within, she began to lean back, increasing the pressure of his erection against her g spot.

Finn didn’t ask her if she was ‘okay’ every few minutes, every single time anymore. She knew him better now, his anxiety around sex, his concerns about her comfort. He’d replaced it with asking her ‘do you like this’, when he changed motions. Because his primary concern was always pleasing her.

Finn was gritting his teeth now, and his brows would draw together, and his eyes narrowed. But he kept pace with her. As he got nearer his mouth would open every so often, so he could gasp. She kept her grinding smooth, so they had maximum contact.

Finn was trying so hard now, his head fell back a little as his face screwed up like he was about to sneeze. Finn Hudson for ‘I’m about to cum’. 

She squeezed her body tight around him, and deepened her motions, making more forceful thrusts now. Finn opened his eyes, long enough to clutch her face and stare at her right as his blew his load. _The way his veins stick out on his neck right as he goes is so cute._

_Get a grip, Girl!_

He collapsed forward against her. 

“You… astound… me…” He heaved into her ear.

She didn’t know what to say so she just hugged him to her. _Stay_.

They both flopped onto their sides on the bed, still facing each other, smiling. Finn liked to gaze into her eyes afterwards too, while he was basking in his afterglow. Tonight, he reached out to run his hand through her hair and trace her cheek.

_Dogs actually stare into their owner’s eyes as a way of causing bonded feelings. They’re smart little fuckers. You think you’re the boss, and you decide they are going to sleep outside in a kennel. Famous last words. A couple of months later, they’re barely even toilet-trained and they’ve already weaseled their way into your bed. It’s Rover’s pillow now! And then you try and kick them out and they cry and melt your icy heart with their puppy dog eyes. Like Finn Fucking Hudson, attaching himself to you, with his ‘are you okay’s’ and his ‘Cyndi Lauper’s’ and his ‘you’re beautiful’s’. And that’s how you end up realizing that you’ve gotten so used to them, that you can’t sleep unless the little fucker is pressed up next to you, keeping you warm._

_Or you think their ridiculous-looking jizz face is somehow cute._

His voice broke her from her thoughts, “I still think we should have a fancy night out though, for our birthdays,” He was intently checking her reaction as he delivered his words.

Santana felt herself tense up. _Shit!_

He squeezed her belly, “No pressure.”

But once something like that was out there… you can’t really tuck it back away.

“I don’t know…” She just wished they could rewind and press stop.

“Santana,” Finn said, getting right up close to her face, with his big puppy dog eyes, “I just want to take my girlfriend out for a nice night because I’m happy and I want to celebrate.”

“Fine,” She relented. _Fuck,_ _aren’t I supposed to be happy a guy wants to do this shit?_ But she just felt nervous. “But can we make it _after_ I shoot CSI. I think I’ll be able to relax better if it’s after.”

Finn was so happy, “Sure,” He said kissing the back of her hand, like she was some posh English Lady in olden times.

_Why are you so good to me?_

He rolled back on top of her now and was hugging her. Before his hands started to roam her body as if preparing her for more.

_You definitely can’t go again **this** soon._

“It occurs to me,” He did his devious half smirk, “I didn’t finish you off.”

_You noticed…_

But Finn was constantly subverting her expectations. He got up and opened her wardrobe and rummaged around on the top shelf and pulled out the very non-descript black plastic bag Santana kept her vibrator in. 

_Finn knows what that is?_

It was her Hitachi Magic Wand. The first time Finn had laid eyes on it while she was pulling out a pack of condoms from her bedside table drawer, where she kept all her sexy goodies. Santana had shrugged and said it was a foot massager and he’d nodded and said no more. And then she’d hidden it _way_ better after that to spare herself further embarrassment.

“Umm, have you been snooping through my stuff?” She said, feeling pissed off, “because _not_ cool.”

“More like… stumbled across while cohabitating,” He grinned boyishly. “Lie back,” He commanded.

Santana obliged, feeling the anticipation build in the pit of her tummy, “I take it you figured out it’s not a foot massager.”

“I completely believed you,” Finn admitted, looking amused, “I looked for how to use it on the internet, because I intended to give you a foot massage…” Finn just shook his head, laughing at his naivety, “and my research lead me to realize it’s used to massage… something much more exciting than feet.”

And then they both started laughing. It was a completely awkward thing to be talking about, but somehow it was okay.

But before Santana’s chest was through heaving, Finn’s mouth was covering hers, and he was holding her waist and lying over her, and kissing and touching. He further impressed her by not jumping the gun and simply holding toy to clit. He remembered that foreplay was still required.

She happily spread her legs for him. Now he was turning it on, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Clearly, genuinely curious.

“Lube,” She reminded him without being too demanding about it.

“Oh,” He rectified that situation.

He kneeled between her spread legs, getting real up close and personal with her flaming lips and gently touched the wand to her welcome mat.

She loved that familiar buzzing on her buzzer.

He then began to move it up and down, too quickly while pressing too hard. Santana reached her hand down to guide his hand on the wand. Just the slightest of movement, with a light touch on her clit. Finn was watching her, fascinated at how her body was reacting. Santana laid back and then tried to just focus on how amazing it felt.

Finn started chuckling again, “I thought the pulsating head thing was supposed to go _inside_.”

She raised her eyebrows, “It’s pretty big.”

“Yeah, I found a video online,” Finn was blushing like a nun.

“X-rated research,” Santana replied, coyly, motioning a hand job in the air, “for the sake of science.”

He giggled like a little girl scout, “It was!”

Before long that constant vibration on her most concentrated fold of nerve endings was too much for her. Santana tried to control her breathing among other things. She was gasping, and quaking, and she felt everything struggling to hold on, to make it last longer. And then she couldn’t speak anymore. Finn was rubbing her tits with his free hand, and gazing on her, full of love.

“Do you like this?”

She nodded, getting him to keep it right where it was. Like the calm before the storm, Santana laid completely still as the feelings burst forth between her legs as she experienced major sensory meltdown. Her whole body snapped together, her legs, her chest flailing, looking like a scene from The Exorcist. Her legs closed and continued to jerk, and Finn held the wand more or less steady. But she was too sensitive by now and had to push his hand away.

“What?”

Santana told him, “Take it as a complement,”

“How so?”

“You’ve never…?”

“What?”  
“When a woman has a really good… O,” Santana felt embarrassed, and that just wasn’t her, she wasn’t ashamed of sex, “well, we get kind of sensitive _down there_ , and can’t take anymore.”  
“Seriously?”

“You didn’t know that?”

His face said no, so she didn’t wait for the verbal answer.

Santana reached her hand out to graze Finn’s lips with her fingertips. He reacted as if surprised, but also happy. She didn’t often do things like this. Finn took the opportunity to hold her hand, and interlink their fingers, and then kissed the back of her hand. And then he laid down next to her again, he got under the duvet now, wanting her to cuddle up next to him, with her back pressed up against his front. And then came his standard protective arm around her. But she found she didn’t mind it anymore. It was kind of nice.

Maybe because she couldn’t see his face, it was easier. She took a deep breath before finally answering his question, “13, and my brother’s college friend.”

“13!” Finn exclaimed, “Wait, a college guy, isn’t that like… illegal?”

She rolled her eyes, “Are you the sex police?”

Finn kept wanting more, “Did you like… love him and shit?”

Santana scoffed, “No.” _You know I’m gay right. Then again, I am seeing you. But you have a vagina, I’m sure of it, so it all works out in the wash._

Truth be told he was hot and drove a motorbike and would let his stubble get too long, and he had tatts and always smelled like cigarettes. In other words, to her he was basically Danny Zuko from Grease, the epitome of cool to her barely teenage, hormone ravaged body. And she’d been drunk at the party her brother Carlito had thrown last minute, when Mom had had to take Abuela to hospital. Dan had grind danced with her, that had turned into making out, that quickly turned into him leading her into the lounge room to grope on the couch. And before she knew it, her dress was up and her pants were down, and he wasn’t terribly gentle and it really kind of hurt. He did seem to get that it was her first time. She bled on that couch, and tried to clean off the stain later, with limited success. Dan only wanted a one and done scenario and didn’t give her his number. He called her a ‘nice girl’, which she didn’t think he meant as a complement. And that was it. But Santana didn’t say such things out loud. She didn’t give people ammo to use against her.

“It wasn’t very nice,” She admitted, “I’d been drinking, and it kind of hurt.”

“Umm, that sounds like he took advantage…”

She huffed, conveying she was touchy about it. Maybe Finn did have a point.

Finn changed tact, “Why him?”

She shrugged, “He was older, and hot in a dangerous sort of way... he drove a motorbike, which I thought made him _very_ cool.”

“What did your brother think?”

Santana surpressed her laughter, “I didn’t tell him.”

“But… it was his friend?”

“So?”

“Isn’t that potentially like… _really_ awkward.”

“He wasn’t the kind of friend that came over all the time, he was just some friend of Carlito’s,” Santana said, trying to convey how not a big deal it was. “I don’t think they’re still friends now.”

“Did you regret it?”

Santana shrugged, “The best advice an ex-girlfriend of Angel’s once told me; ‘the first time is gonna suck, sorry girl, just try to find a nice one’”

“Was he nice?”

“No.” Finn’s prying was really starting to piss her off, “We aren’t all like Berry, waiting until we're in love for 3 years before delicately laying back while we think of England as he’s finally allowed to unlock our chastity belt.”

“Hey, come on, no bagging on Rachel.”

“Then stop judging all my choices,” She snapped.

“Truce,” Finn whispered as he munched on her ear. “What was his name?”

“Dan.”

“Dan what?”

“I don’t know.”

Finn was silent to that. His unspoken judgement hung in the space between them,

“Go ahead, call me a slut. I _fucking_ dare you!”

But he didn’t, he kissed her cheek, “Thank you… for sharing.”

He snuggled into her back, pulling her closer. She calmed a bit. It got her back to thinking about their first time together.

After a lengthy period of no talking Santana said, “There are no fireworks, you know.” 

Finn was silent a while, clearly contemplating her words carefully.

“That’s what I wanted you to understand, when we did it the first time,” Santana explained.

He countered, “There can be.”

Santana resisted the urge to snark.

“We barely knew each other, so of course it didn’t feel right,” Finn responded, “but… my first time with Rachel… it was special, not because either of us were any good at it, but because we really loved each other.”

Hearing him say it was better with Rachel just made Santana feel like shit. How Finn had made her feel after that first time when he’d called it meaningless, and acted ashamed, clearly wanting her to pretend it never happened. She’d played along of course, because she was too proud to admit he’d hurt her feelings. But fuck it had made her mad. 

“It feels really good now,” He whispered.

And then he reached out to tickle her belly as he began to kiss her ear. It was hard not to smile at that.

“What about the first time you and Brittany did it?” He asked, “Did that feel different?”  
It had actually. And she didn’t need to be drunk, or getting something else out of it. And she felt so genuinely excited. At the time, Santana had dismissed how heightened the experience was, chalking it up to her fears of being caught because what they were doing was so forbidden. 

But kissing Britt, touching her soft skin, caressing her, the slow undressing the gentle touching… all of it. It was the first time it ever felt right.

“Yeah, it did,” She finally answered his question.

“Do you miss her?”

“Do you miss Berry?” She fired back.

His voice warned her, “Do you want the honest answer?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

And then she felt him poking her in the back with his chub.

“Why Mr Hudson!” Santana put on her best 1950s southern damsel voice, “Back again so soon?!”

Finn just smirked, as he moved to cover her, “Can’t help myself.”

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

While CSI wasn’t a show Santana had watched much, she was aware of its TV cultural significance, the sort of ‘Geeks rule the roost’, ‘science is awesome’ messages of the show. She tended to like shows that were more character driven.

The CSI gig was all-night shoots, for three days, with her lying in a skimpy ‘stripper’ outfit outside for hours trying not to noticeably breathe while the main cast did a scene around her. Her character had been strangled and had their body left in a park. She was nearly six hours in hair and make-up while they painted her face extra pale and put bluish tinge around her mouth and used an eye drops trick to make the blood vessels in her eyes look broken and her pupils dilated. Santana hoped audiences would be able to see all these details.

The killer hadn’t just dumped her. Her body had been staged like a porn star. In this case her hands were bound above her head, and the ligature was still around her neck, so she appeared to be kneeling with her legs spread. It was uncomfortable as fuck to hold the position for any length of time and she didn’t know which camera, was on whom, when.

The main cast were very professional, they nailed every take. The director kept changing what he wanted, particularly with regard to the actions they were all doing as they delivered the dialogue, and they all coped with those sudden adjustments. No one seemed to want to talk to the background actor, but that didn’t mean Santana couldn’t pick up a few tips from observing them.

Santana had also managed to get herself an agent. Finn had already gotten one straight away after he was cast on _The Bold and the Beautiful_. But Finn’s agent, Hal, who was an overweight and balding 30 year-old who wore a backwards baseball cap everywhere that was fooling no one and had some kind of undiagnosed condition that meant he had zero tact and no filter. Hal had made clear he wasn’t interested in taking her on, though he told her she had ‘great pins and jugs’, _what a charmer!_ He said she needed to get drama school behind her or something, because there just weren’t a lot of roles for, and he waved his hand over her ‘whatever the fuck race you are’.

_ASS!_

She’d met Eddie on the CSI set the first night. He seemed eager enough and gave her his card, saying he thought she ‘had something’. She Googled him when she got home just to make sure he was legit and not just some guy with business cards that he used to pick up women he found attractive, because you never knew with this town. He said he might be able to wing her an audition for _Brothers and Sisters_ , playing a maid, who would be alive, and deliver one line. _Now I just need to get cast as the Taco Bell Chihuahua and I’ll have all the Latina stereotypes covered!_

Finn was having a big week himself. Spencer and Marisol were going to kiss in his latest episode, and he had wanted to practice stage kissing.

_And what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t help him? What a chore!_

To make matters worse while she was shooting the dead porn star in a park scene, the director came over at one point and repositioned her himself, not happy with her original leg and arm placement. This dumpy, 50-something year-old man was prying her bare thighs further apart, while a whole crew watched on as if that was normal.

_I’m not **actually** dead. You could have asked me to move!_

And the brief ‘flashback’ to her murder was just her walking in a halter top and black leather miniskirt, slowing down to look for her keys and then getting grabbed from behind. It would probably only be about 10 seconds worth of screen time. Even just that part took two hours to film, and she hated wearing heels, and these ones were ridiculously high stilettos. Her feet were so sore, it was sweet relief when they finally went numb. Santana still screamed and thrashed like a banshee. She did her best to get her real adrenaline pumping.

She thought she did an okay job, but it wasn’t going to be her big break or anything. She saw some of the main cast, who’d become household names from this show. But no one was that interested in talking to a nameless background actor. Santana was about to leave. Dawn was breaking, and her scenes were done, unless that needed to re-record any of her vocals. Her vocals. Which was just her screaming for literally 2 seconds.

Santana was just about to find out who she needed to escort her off, when Jorja Fox strolled back towards her. She was thrilled that Jorja Fox had been one of the main cast involved in her crime scene. She was an openly lesbian actress, and Santana was hoping to ask her how she’d navigated that situation.

“Hi,” Santana waved, “I’m dead stripper number two.” She tried for humor, which appeared to work.

The actress’ trademark gap-toothed smile lit up her dimple, “Your parents come up with that?” Jorja joked back.

“Yeah, they’re big fans of the show, it’s been going so long now, there’s a whole generation of children of groupies old enough to get cast.”

Jorja chuckled.

“I’m Santana Lopez, it’s been an honor,” She held out her hand, and the older woman shook it.

“How long have you been at this?”

“Not long, I only graduated high school last year.”

The brunette’s eyebrows raised, “You look older.”

“That a good thing?”

“It definitely can be, you’ve probably got another 8 years you’ll still be able to get cast as a high schooler though, knowing this business.”

“Or twenty years if it’s for Pretty Little Liars,” Santana sniped.

Jorja laughed more openly at that, “So, true!”

“Do you mind, I’ve just got a quick question,” Santana tried to work up the courage to ask, “I mean, you’ve been on some really big shows and…”

Jorja waited, politely for the clearly burning question on Santana’s lips.

She took a deep breath, “… and you’ve never really hidden who you are and who you date…”

“Are you dealing with that yourself?” The CSI star asked.

Santana nodded, “I just don’t want to _only_ be able to get cast on ‘The L Word’ reboot, you know?”

“I hear you,” Jorja said, “I was never really in the closet, but I wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops either. I played about three openly gay roles early on, appeared on Ellen as a lesbian on the Ellen character’s first time in a lesbian bar, which was a pivotal TV moment.”

“Exactly,” Santana stated, “but you got ER after that, and then the West Wing…”

Jorja sighed, “I don’t think there’s a perfect way to do it.”

“And roles for gay, women of color…” Santana began to say, feeling even more dejected.

“My advice,” Jorja announced, “Be good at what you do, be bold, and go after what you want,” She looked right into Santana’s eyes, “The worst anyone can say is ‘no’, and then you just keep trying until somebody says ‘yes’.”

Santana nodded.

Jorja’s brown eyes lit up to recall it, “I mean, when I was starting out, I was told I wouldn’t get cast because of my teeth, and my agent used to take me to get headshots with me smiling with my mouth closed.”

Santana shook her head, agreeing that it was absurd. Like they aren't going to notice before they cast you.

“Fuck em! Not every part is meant for someone with perfect teeth," Jorja remained defiant, showing off the gap between her front teeth as she said it, "Real people exist, you know?”

“Thanks,” Santana smiled, “It means a lot.”

“No problem,” The star smiled kindly, “Goodluck, Santana Lopez.”

Santana was a little chuffed she’d remembered her name.

Because as much as things seemed to progress and Hollywood was seen as some bastion for gay people. There weren’t many very famous gay women, unless they were well established before they came out or were acting in niche areas. And once they were out, they didn’t get certain roles anymore. Far too often if you weren’t a romantic prospect off camera for some reason suddenly you couldn’t be one on camera. Santana just hated the idea that all these things she couldn’t change about herself were the barriers keeping her out of jobs. _It should be about how good you are!_ Frankly, it sucked that every script called for the leading woman to be single and the romantic prospect for the leading man all the time too.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Finn POV)))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn was going to need to raincheck their Marriott plans, again. But he hoped this time for a positive reason. Because the Jazz Quartet, Orfeu Negro, with one, Desmond Ortega Jr on the saxophone was about to be playing at the premier live jazz venue, Catalina Bar & Grill on West Sunset Boulevard. And he needed to find a way to get the measure of the man who was Santana’s biological father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Does anyone know of a good fan board or something where Naya fans can go to discuss their feelings with other fans. Any guidence on this topic is much appreciated. Thanking you in advance._


	13. Rolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stuff that went down at Regionals- like Emma and Mr Schue getting married, didn't take place, and the catfishing storyline is also not resolved.

Finn was on the phone listening to Rachel explain the current drama in New York, “Funny Girl is on hold for now, Rupert Campion was directing it, he’s had a heart attack…”

Finn wasn’t sure what to say to that, “Hope he’s okay.”

“How very Bob Fosse of him!” Rachel remarked, “it’s been pushed back at _least_ six months.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s _so_ frustrating,” Rachel fumed, “I’ve been practicing night and day, and brushing up on my acting, I’ve been taking extension classes…”

Finn was determined to find the silver lining, “It’ll give you a chance to concentrate on school. This way, you’ll be more prepared when the audition happens for real.”

But Rachel was having none of it, “ _Nothing_ compares to Funny Girl, now everything’s just torture by comparison.”

Forever dramatic. But he did know what she meant.

“I was _so_ ready to do it, now it just feels like my life is on hold!”

“Well, is there anything else coming up in the mean time?” He wondered aloud.

“Chicago,” Rachel said, somewhat excited, “it’s been announced, open call in two weeks’ time.”

“Awesome,” Finn reminded her, “you’ve always wanted to play Roxie.”

“Yeah, I’ve already registered for an audition online.”

“Is it still open?”

“Yeah, for a few more days, I think…” Rachel picked up on his sudden interest, “are you thinking of…” But she trailed off sadly.

“No, I can’t… contract…” Was all he said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” Rachel said as his meaning became clear. “You want to know for _her_.”

Finn didn’t see the point of tip toeing around it now, “Velma is a good fit for Santana.”

Rachel was silent on the other end.

“Maybe we’ll both come to New York for a few days.”

“I’d really like to see you,” Rachel admitted.

“It would be nice.”

))))))))))))))))))))

“What would you say to spending three nights in New York.”

Santana looked suspicious, “And why would we up and do that?”

They were side by side on Mercedes’ couch and Finn couldn’t wait to tell her what he’d done.

“Because, _Chicago_ is about to have a revival on Broadway.”  
“Sounds good,” Santana barely reacted to the news, “I’ve never seen a live show before, I’d love to go.”

“No, San, you don’t get it, it’s not on Broadway yet, they are about to start casting it.”

He could see the wheels turning in her head.

“You mean go for the audition?” She deciphered his meaning.

He nodded enthusiastically, “I registered you. You’d be perfect for Velma.”

Santana couldn’t believe it, “I love that part!”

“Sexy mezzo, former cabaret dancer with a powerful voice,” Finn listed, “who don’t take no crap from nobody.”

Santana’s dimple appeared in her cheek, “Who murders her sister and cheating husband!”

“Oh, no,” Finn corrected, faking his sincerity, “you blacked out and don’t remember a thing.”

“ _I didn’t do it_ ,” Santana sang, channeling Velma’s trademark brassiness, “ _But if I’d done it, how could you tell me that I was wrong!_ ”

“Sounds like it was written for you!”

Santana was still taking it all in.  
“I’ve got a light schedule next week, we could fly out Thursday night and return late on Sunday?”

Santana’s whole face lit up, a smile that made flowers bloom, “Are you serious?”

“You’re on the call sheet for Friday.”

“Finn!” Her voice got so high, because she was excited.

“It’s going to be a total cattle call, you might have to stand in line for hours…”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes,” Finn simply stated, “and let’s work out what song you’re gonna sing.”

“YES! Oh my… YES!”

Santana was actually jumping, she hadn’t looked that excited about anything in ages.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn was beyond nervous. He’d made Santana record his first episode of _The_ _Bold and the Beautiful_ , but had made her promise not to watch until they were together. She had just come out of her room, having showered and changed, and he was on Mercedes’ couch waiting.

“I’ve made popcorn!” Mercedes called from the kitchen, “movie popcorn.”

Finn took a big handful from the bowl, he was so jumpy, “that really does taste like the popcorn they sell at the cinema.”

“The trick is you do it on the stove with coconut oil,” Mercedes beamed at his compliment.

“I know y’all are not startin’ without me,” Santana came out with her hair still wrapped in a towel, “I am fully prepared…”

“To throw your panties at the hotness of Spencer Mann!” Mercedes finished the sentence, Santana had started, but it had clearly been going to ‘Lima Heights Adjacent’ territory.

Santana shook her head in jest at Mercedes.

They all sat, throw rug across their knees.

“How did your audition go earlier?” Finn asked Santana.

“For _Brothers and Sisters_ ,” Santana hung her head, “don’t ask.”

He sank a little, “That bad?”

“I could have upstaged Meryl Streep in my dramatic monologue about how I’m remaining with my boring husband in the Bridges of Maddison County, and they wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Finn felt bad for her.

Mercedes didn’t know the details of how hard it had been most of the time, “Why do you think that was?”

“They took one look at me and decided I didn’t look right,” Santana fumed, “to play a _fucking_ nanny!”

“Sucks!” Mercedes said shaking her head.  
“I can’t even get the roles I don’t even want,” Santana’s pain at all the rejection, was hard to watch. She took a deep breath, her way of ‘shaking it off’ that Finn had noticed, “We’re here for Finn.”

“Agreed.”

The girls drum rolled on their knees.

Finn felt like he was dying of thirst, but he kept stuffy that salty, buttery popcorn in his mouth. The theme song played. Finn’s first appearance was in a scene between brothers. Tyler is planning his big party, and Spencer arrives, a single gym bag and his guitar, dressed like he is working folk. And the dysfunction at the heart of their relationship is evident from the first scene.

“Rugged!” Mercedes commented.

“I would _definitely_ fuck you!” Santana commented seeing his scene alter ego.

“Um, hmm,” Mercedes agreed, seemingly accidently out loud, until Santana threw popcorn at her.

“He’s taken!”

That made him smile.

His was one of four storylines going on in the episode. It was so weird to finally see the scene, Tyler’s party, Marisol arriving in the maid outfit, the boys harassing her to strip, and then finally, his big performance, the scene they had auditioned with in his father’s study.

“That’s Jennifer?” Santana commented, finally seeing the woman who’d gotten Marisol over her.

“You could totally take her in a fight,” Mercedes showed her support.

“Definitely!” Santana agreed.

“Is this a bad time to mention we are filming our first sex scene next week?” Finn slipped in.

Santana turned to him, cocking her head to the side.

“I kinda need your help.”

Shaking her head, “To help that _twig_ … have fake sex with my boyfriend!”

“I’m not in the slightest bit interested in her,” Finn reassured her, “she’s my co-worker and she has a boyfriend.”

“And you have a girlfriend, is the _A answer!”_ Santana reminded him testily.

“You getting all possessive is kinda hot actually,” Finn pointed out, “since you wouldn’t even admit you were my girlfriend a month ago.”

Santana sniped back “A month ago, you still wanted to fuck Berry!”

“Do you two want me to leave?” Mercedes reminded them she was sitting next to Finn.

“All good,” Said Finn, they weren’t really arguing.

Mercedes unpaused it, the part where Spencer was asking Marisol how long she’d been a maid.

Santana began fanning herself in exaggerated motions.

“You just need to ride in on a white horse,” Mercedes remarked.

“It’s not too… over the top?” Finn asked, his stomach was still knotted that they’d think the whole think was ridiculous.

Santana dialled up her sassy, “I think all the grandmas, crackheads and housewives who watch daytime TV are going to be positively soaking their panties for the hotness that is one, barely legal, piece of Finn Hudson ass!”

“I bet he’s gonna start getting fanmail,” Mercedes pointed out.

“I’m planting my flag on that johnson,” Santana gestured with her hand, “It’s mine ladies, hands off!” Santana snarked.

Finn thought they were just trying to make him feel better, “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” They both agreed in unison.

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

“Hey Britt Britt,” She said as her friend answered.

“Santana, hey!”

“Counting down the days until I see you!”

“Did you get the nannying job?”

“Nope,” Santana knew she meant, the job as an actor playing a nanny on a TV show.

“That sucks.”

“How are you? What’s going on in that neck of the woods?”

“How can woods have a neck? It’s a collection of trees?”

“How’s Glee Club?”

“Lord Tubbington’s fishing is threatening to tear the club apart.”

_What the **actual** fuck have you been smoking Britt?_

“Really?”

“Ryder is mad, because Lord Tubbington was pretending to be some hot, blonde, girl.”

Santana actually considered calling Trouty to find out if whatever Britt was talking about was serious. But then again, did she really want to listen to Lips talk? Probably not.

“Have you guys decided on a set list yet?”

“Not yet, or maybe? I can’t remember.”

“How’s Cheerios?”

“It’s okay, Quinn is like, even bossier than I remember.”

 _What?_ Santana reminded herself, _she means Kitty!_

Trying to decipher Brittany’s way of interchanging symbols and people she found similar was much easier when Santana was in her day-to-day life.

“Well, call me if anything happens, good or bad, I hate feeling so far away.”

“Okay.”

“Love you.

“Love you too.”

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Finn POV ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Desmond Ortega Jr was not what Finn was expecting. He was about 50, and looked a bit like Tony Fernandez, the shortstop from the Toronto Bluejays. Finn wasn’t much into baseball, but Burt was a fan. He thought he had the wrong guy at first. Finn didn’t know too much about genetics but he thought Santana had made a mistake, but then he noticed his eyes. Similar shape, and really dark, just like hers. His ears and his lips a little.

Orfeu Negra was doing their sound check at Catalina Bar and Grill, and then Finn had convinced them to let him interview the whole band afterward. So, he’d lied. He was pretending to be a film student at UCLA making a documentary on contemporary Latin Jazz. He’d been cram studying Coltrane, Charli Parker Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington all week so he wouldn’t sound like a total fraud.

Finn had been watching all six of them for nearly an hour. Desmond was focused and he knew his part exactly, but he had a drink, an amber spirit on ice, he was resting on the window sill and would go back to every so often. He was relaxed, and would joke, but he was fussy about his tenor saxophone. He would adjust and readjust everything until the sound was perfect. He had a fedora on, and an open, powder blue shirt, and cream dress pants. stylish but casual.

The acoustic guitarist, Sam, struck a beat, very mellow and bluesy, and it was only a few intro bars before Desmond joined him on the sax. It was a duet of sorts with no singing. The guitar would call and the saxophone would answer with a poignant melody.

The way he blew the instrument, and the crisp, bold sound of the music, the feeling it evoked within him. Finn had never heard this song and he felt incredibly moved by it.

Da da, da da the acoustic guitar was cool, flirting with the saxophone that replied with heat; bop ba dada da dada and then it repeated.

It made him think of a striking woman strolling across a crowded bar, catching the eye of every man in there. Intriguing. Seductive. Unforgettable.

Finn broke out of his trance once the song ended.

“That was beautiful,” Finn commented as Desmond Jr came over and sat down opposite him.

Finn was sitting at a square wooden table with modest chairs, next to a window.

“I’ve always loved to cover that song,” Santana’s bio-Dad admitted.

“What’s it called?”

Desmond stared back, ‘seriously!’

Finn realized he’d probably just blown his cover.

“’Lily was here’,” The older man informed him, “Dave Stewart and Candy Dulfer made it famous late ’89.”

“You’re amazing,” Finn couldn’t help but feel in awe of the man before him, larger than life.

Finn smiled nervously, as he set his cell down on the small wooden table in front of his interviewee, set to voice record. This part of the bar wasn’t open yet. They were set to play a show in two hours.

“Thanks for agreeing to let me interview you,” Finn was gracious, “Can I get you a drink?” _Loosen your tongue._

The older man nodded. And Finn spoke to the wait staff.

“So, Mr Ortega, who are your biggest musical influences?”

He scoffed, “Mr Ortega!” Looking over his shoulder dramatically, “Don’t know who you could mean, Scout. They call me Rolls.”

“Rawls?”

“No Rolls.”

“Why do they call you ‘Rolls’?” He was maybe 5’10” and slim, except for a moderate beer gut.

“Think Dylan, Jagger.”

Finn wasn’t sure what he meant. He’d have to give it more thought later. He clutched his notes, where he’d scrawled useful questions down. But he was feeling flustered.

Finn read from his notes, “Did you name the band?”

“I did.”

“Why Black Orpheus?” Finn asked.

Rolls smiled slyly, “Do you know the myth?”

Finn nodded, something else he’d learned in the last few days, “Orpheus was a great poet and musician and he charmed everywhere he went…”

“And then he fell in love with Eurydice,” Rolls took over the narrative, “On the day they were wed she was bitten by a snake and died. And Orpheus enchanted the ferryman with his music to allow him to journey across the River Styx, despite being alive, and lulled the hellhounds to sleep with his lyre, so he could enter the gates to the underworld.”

Finn had only caught the gist of it, it was interesting to hear Rolls give it such life.

“And then Orpheus sang for Hades and Persephone of his love for Eurydice.”

Finn watched his face closely as he spoke, so genuine and sad. Romantic.

“Hades was said to have wept at Orpheus’ song of love and devotion, and made a deal that he would allow Eurydice to return to the earth, alive, but only if Orpheus were to walk in front, and Eurydice behind until reaching the surface, he was not to look back at her.”

“Yeah, I read about it,” Finn was embarrassed, “Why did Hades do that? I didn’t really get it.”

Rolls watched him closely.

“Well, we all know how it ended, Orpheus couldn’t help himself, he looked back right before they reached the surface, so she was sent back, and he got ripped to shreds by some angry women.”

Finn couldn’t help but laugh in his own discomfort, “That’s… wow, they aren’t kidding with those Greek tragedies.”

“That’s the best part,” Rolls disagreed confidently, “Love, death, beauty, passion, live hard and regret nothing.”

Finn saw an opening, “Did you lose a great love?”

He was kind of hoping Mirabel Lopez was the one that got away and he was full of regret, writing albums of the heartache. Thinking on the daughter he’d left behind.

Rolls sipped his drink, “Something like that, a long time ago.”

“Did you ever marry?” Finn asked.

“It’s just me.”

“That sounds… lonely?”

He shrugged, “My sax is my wife and booze is my mistress.”

Finn wasn’t sure what to say to that. He wanted to know if Rolls at least had regrets, “What got you into jazz?”  
The older man was taken aback by the question, unsure how to respond. “Jazz was just all around me as a kid, it just _is_. It’s just life… how we express ourselves. There’s never been anything else.”

“Where did you grow up?”  
“San Juan, Puerto Rico.”

 _Same as Mirabel_. “Are your parents’ musicians?”

“Yes and no,” Rolls was further amused by that line of questioning, “My mother was a dancer, and she used to sing, no one paid her to do it though.”

“And your father?”

“He’d skipped out when I was pretty young,” Rolls shrugged, “I think my mother thought naming me after him would make him proud… _it didn’t_.”

The older man was keeping his composure for now, but was becoming increasingly short with this conversation.

_He grew up without a father._

“Back to my musical influences,” Rolls redirected the conversation now, “You know the folk legend that Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil,” Rolls’ face was completely sincere.

Finn didn’t know who Robert Johnson was. But that sounded insane, he wasn’t sure if the jazz musician was about to laugh at him. But Finn wasn’t sure, so he didn’t let on anything yet.

“I’ve heard that,” Finn responded with another lie.

“The devil bestowed Johnson with his ethereal abilities on the guitar and his voice….” Rolls paused, checking Finn’s expression for a tell. “In those days, in Tennessee and Mississippi that meant you wanted to play secular music.”

 _He’s not being serious._ Relief.

“I don’t go in for superstition, myself, but I think hearing Johnson’s music… before I even left the womb had some kind of influence on the kind of musician I would become.”

Finn took the opportunity to pry on the personal opening Santana’s Dad had given him.

“So, your mother was a jazz enthusiast too?”

“That she was,” Rolls stated, before going back to his jazz appreciation history, “Do you know Johnson’s ‘Crossroad Blues’ or ‘Hellhound on my trail’?”

Finn shook for no.

Rolls continued unconcerned, “Pete Welding once described Robert Johnson to Son House,” Rolls no doubt assumed Finn totally knew who he was talking about, “He called a young, Robert Johnson, an abysmal guitar player, but good on the harmonica.”

“He was jealous?” Finn asked, hoping he hadn’t exposed himself.

Rolls’ eyes focused on Finn as if unimpressed for a mere moment, before it was gone. “But two years later Johnson had gone from novice to master.”

_I am so lost._

“Much more likely ‘The Devil’s Own’ spent the better part of that time learning guitar from Ike Zimmerman.”

Finn needed to at least pretend to care about their band, “Who taught you how to play the saxophone?”

“That’s a whole ‘nother story, doesn’t involve a deal with the devil though…” Rolls took a long swig of his bourbon, “I was a bad kid, from mean streets…” The jazz man shook his head in dismay, “I got sent to one of those juvenile reform schools.”

“Okay.”

“Learned to play there, best thing for me, straightened me out.”

Not the answer Finn would have expected. He thought those kinds of places just made kids worse. _Was it familiar though? Didn’t Louis Armstrong say similar of himself?_

“They let you play a saxophone in a juvenile facility?” Finn tried to clarify, because that just didn’t sound right.

“No, but I learned about music, I blew a bugle back then.”

“So, the system works?”  
Rolls shrugged, “Worked for me.”

“When did you come to the states?”

“I came for the odd festival or gig for years, but I didn’t really move here until much later… ‘91? ‘92 maybe?”

_That would fit._

“And you write some of the songs, right?” Finn got to some of his more burning questions, “I really like ‘Safe Bet’.”

“That’s not one of our hits,” Rolls was impressed Finn knew the song.

“The sax solo is… phenomenal, and you can really feel the anger, the disappointment,” Finn fanboyed for a moment, “It’s got some real emotion behind it, the guy’s so mad at his lover for choosing the boring guy with the 9-5 job, and the stable income, life in suburbia.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

Finn tried not to sound too interested in the answer, “Was that based on something you really went through?”

Rolls’ eyes narrowed, before he measured his words, “I’m a firm believer that art is what you interpret it as.”

“And art is informed by life,” Finn shot back. _Come on._

Rolls knew this was a dance of sorts now. “The creativity exists, some musicians are better able to tap into it.” Rolls laid out his philosophy of life, “Pain, life? Who could say what does it?”

“Like Orpheus?” Finn suggested.

Rolls smiled back, “Like Orpheus.”

“Did you ever regret, not going the family route?” Finn asked.

Rolls studied Finn across the table. No doubt picking up on the oddness of this interview. “Doesn’t matter now!”

Finn faked ignorance, “Why not?”

“Because it’s too late.,” He took a long swallow of bourbon.

“Why?”

“It just is… I blew it.”  
“How so?”

“She chose him, and that’s that,” Rolls leaned back crossing his arms.

Finn stared at the musician in front of him, and Rolls stared back.

Rolls knitted his brows together, “You’re not a film student and you’re _definitely_ not into jazz. So, the question is, why are you here corn-fed Iowa boy!”

Finn was relieved not to keep this charade going any longer.

“Ohio, actually,” Finn corrected, watching closely as the older man straightened up, “Lima, Ohio to be exact.”

He observed Rolls reacting to the mention of the state he no doubt knew his former flame and daughter lived in. And then he just waited.

“What’s this _really_ about?”

“I just wanted an excuse to talk to you…” Finn came clean, “I’m Santana’s boyfriend.”

The jazz man’s whole face changed, he flashed anger at being played. “If she needs a kidney, I’m afraid neither of mine are looking too good,” He sounded amused more than anything, “drank a bit too much piss these past… 30 years or so. Liver’s pretty shot too!”

Finn was completely thrown by his remarks. Like the only reason Santana would want to see him was if she was sick and needed an organ transplant. _WTF!_

_Breathe. He’s uncomfortable and trying to be funny?_

“ _No_ ,” Finn tried to control his own urge to smack this guy, “after you blew her off junior year, she doesn’t want to bother with you.”

“So, what the fuck are you doing here?” The older man’s irritation began to flare, and he started to get up. Aggressively reaching for his jacket on the back of the chair.

“I wanted to get the measure of you. I don’t want to encourage her to make contact with you unless you are actually interested in having some kind of relationship with her, because if you aren’t… I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“Well, aren’t you just a prince,” The old man mocked.

“Hardly.” Finn got up and gathered his jacket and pulled out a twenty to cover his drinks. “I just care about her.” _Apparently, **way** more than you do, JERK!_

Rolls was already getting up too, but then he stopped, and seemed to think better of it, leaned over and grabbed Finn’s wrist. “You got a picture of her?”

“Of course,” Finn pulled out his phone.

“I’ve never had a picture,” Her dad admitted, sadly.

_Seriously? Are he and her mother on **that** bad terms?_

Rolls gave him his number and Finn saved it, sending a picture of Santana and Quinn from the non-wedding reception.

“It’s from February.”

Rolls looked at it, zooming in. “She’s beautiful,” He commented, as if he was seeing Santana for the first time. “I had it in my head that she looked more like Maribel.”

Finn was confused, _didn’t he see her like two years ago?_ But said nothing to that.

“When she came to see me, I was so…” Rolls stared at Finn, searching his face for absolution, “I didn’t know what to… we hardly talked, I… gave her my number and said I had to go… that was a real dick move.”

Santana didn’t exactly look like either of them, but her features resembled both of them somewhat, Finn observed.

“She’s got your eyes,” Finn stated plainly.

Her father looked more closely at the picture, finished his drink slowly, and deliberately. He nodded at the waitress and ordered another double bourbon.

Rolls’ whole demeanor had changed by now, his eyes pleaded with Finn, “Tell me about her.”

“Santana’s awesome,” Finn took pride in relaying, “smart, independent, _sassy_.”

Rolls nodded absently, but his eyes kept studying her picture.

Finn couldn’t help but fondly relay, “She doesn’t take crap from anybody.”

Rolls smiled at that description.

“And _so_ talented, you should hear her sing.”

Rolls clearly wanted that. Finn was sure he had a video on his phone of Santana singing.

“We were in high school Glee Club together, here she is, singing at one of our sectionals competitions.”

He showed the video of Santana singing _Valerie_. Kurt had shot it on his fancy new phone at the time, and Finn had insisted on a copy.

Rolls took his phone and zoomed on her face. He turned up the volume. He was entirely focused on her performance, and so Finn didn’t say anything until the video had ended.

Rolls only said, “She’s really good.”

Finn kept telling him, “We were national show choir champions last year in Chicago, Santana was a soloist in our winning performance.”

“Is that what she wants to do?” The older man asked, perhaps sounding more engaged, “Be a singer?”

“She’s living in L.A., Lincoln Heights,” Finn was proud to say, “Santana’s trying to make it as an actress, but she’s mostly waiting tables for now. She filmed a scene for CSI a few weeks back.”

He was blank.

“That crime show, with all the forensics,”

“Oh, okay, I’ve heard of that.”

“She’s going to start drama school here in the fall.”

“What kind of music is she in to?”

“Lots of stuff, I’m more classic rock,” Finn was happy to give details, “but she has more eclectic tastes than me, RnB, soul, hip hop, popular, she wrote this song called ‘Trouty Mouth’, and it’s really jazzy, she sounds like Norah Jones when she sings it.”

Rolls’ whole face lit up, “Have you got that on your phone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So, she’s willing to see me?” He asked as if afraid of the answer.

Finn thought on it, “Do you really want this second chance? You’d better not bail.”

Rolls was silent then.

To be fair, he hadn’t been expecting this conversation when he sat down.

“Think about it, sleep on it,” Finn suggested helpfully. “And let me know. You’ve got my number now.”

He seemed hesitant, “But she’s keen?”

Finn nodded, “Yeah, she is.” Finn wasn’t exactly lying, Santana did want to see him, but only if he was prepared to make an effort.

“She asks me where I’ve been,” He shook his head, “What am I gonna say to her?”

“That you’re trying now,” Finn suggested. _My Dad’s dead, at least you can still do something._

“Thanks for this,” Rolls gestured to the photo Finn had sent, but he probably meant the whole conversation about Santana. It didn’t sound like her mother had kept him informed of anything.

))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Finn was on the phone to Kurt.

“What did you think?” Finn had already spoken to his Mom, Mr Schue, Burt, Mercedes about their thoughts since his first episode aired.

“My brother’s a TV star!” Kurt exclaimed, “I’ve been bragging in all my classes.”

Finn chuckled. In truth, he wanted some honest feedback, whether he looked a fool next to all those _real_ actors.

Kurt was pumped, “I think one, Spencer Mann, is going to be the new B&B heartthrob!”

“Really?” Finn didn’t dare hope.

“That scene, after the frat boys think she’s stripper and you tell her she can come to you if she has problems working for your dad…” Kurt relayed, “ _Perfection_ … it was so sweet! Prince Charming!”

Then Finn really did overflow with relief and gratitude. Santana and Mercedes had agreed he was really good, but of course they would say that.

“How did all your assessments go?”

“I’m proud of how I did,” Kurt sounded confident, “It’ll be fine.”

“Good on you,” Finn was proud.

“I’m prepping for a Broadway audition of my own.”

“Cool,” Finn said absently, “I got Santana an audition slot for the Chicago open call on Friday.”

“So, are you coming to the city too?” Kurt was so excited.

“Yeah, I’m not rostered to work on Friday, so Santana and I are flying out on Thursday night.”

“Oh, I can’t wait!”

“She’s so excited!” Finn was so proud, “She’s put together such a sexy audition piece, I feel sorry for all the other girls!”

Kurt was happy for him, “Finn, it’s Broadway open call, she’ll be up against the best of the best.”

“We’ll see.”

“Like a thousand women will audition.”

“Woaw!”

Kurt immediately became concerned, “Are you two planning on staying here… because I’m not sure Rachel is coping that well…”

“No,” Finn jumped in, “I got us three nights at the Marriott, it’s like walking distance to the theater.”

“Oh, how fabulous!” Kurt sounded really happy for him.

“It’s an early birthday present for both of us,” Finn admitted, “We’ve been talking about it for a while.”

“So, I take it, everything is _joyeux_?”

“Huh?”

“Joyous.”

“Yeah, really good,” Finn was happy to report. “In two weeks, I will have wrapped for the season.”

“Oh congrats!” Kurt could be heard clapping down the phone.

“You know that audition I mentioned,” Kurt was chuffed, “There’s a progressive reboot of _A Chorus Line_.”

“Really?”

“I’m so excited!”

Finn mentioned, “I love _A Chorus Line_!”

Finn might not have been able to appreciate all the dancing in it, but he loved the idea of giving stories and character and depth to all the background performers that are forgotten all too easily. He loved how they made you laugh and cry as you related to their struggles and then you rooted for them all to make it. 

“Are they changing the script? It was pretty ground breaking at the time,” Finn pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was the 1970s, the version they are talking about, as far as I heard,” Kurt explained, “Instead of Dance 10 Looks 3, the character is a trans woman singing about how she felt after her gender reassignment surgery.”

“Wow,” Finn was amazed.

“And there will be more people of color, including an Iraqi Muslim character, who literally has the surname ‘Hussein’, talking about the racism he faces in America today, a new take on the ‘Reggie’ character.”

“That’s… huh?” Finn didn’t really give too much thought to that. But, the Muslim kids at school, the few there were, did get slammed into lockers and called ‘terrorist’, so maybe they did have a point. “Is Rachel going to audition?”

“She’s going out for Cassie.”

 _Cassie. The fallen star… Cassie’s the best dancer. That isn’t really a good fit…_ Finn stopped himself from being negative, “Well good luck to her. What part do you want?”

“The re-vamped Gregory Gardener character, who is going to talk about bullying and depression in high school before he came out.”

“That sounds perfect for you, I really hope you get it!” 

“ _God, I hope I get it, I hope I get it…_ ” Kurt began to sing the famous opening group number, _“how many people does he need?”_

Finn grinned, “I guess I walked right into that one!”

Kurt was so excited, he kept gushing about the script, “The whole Sheila character will have more depth, explaining about her surviving sexual assault by becoming hard and adopting her ‘I don’t give a… stuff attitude,” Kurt continued to explain the new arrangement, “and the dancing will take on some contemporary, hip hop fusion.”

“That’s awesome Kurt, it’s nice to hear you be so jazzed about something.”

Kurt was back to brimming with excitement, “The Diana character is going to be overtly a lesbian.”

“That’s awesome!” Finn exclaimed. _Diana is a good fit for Santana. The Puerto Rican woman from the Bronx who was bullied at drama school. She’s a mezzosoprano too._

“Have the open call audition slots gone already?”

“Yep, closed yesterday!”

“Oh, that’s… damn.”

“How lucky is it, that I registered one Ms Santana Lopez!”

“Oh, Kurt, you’re the best!”

“It’s two weeks after the first Chicago audition.”

“I’ll have wrapped by then,” Finn was thinking out loud.

“Yep, and right after that is Nationals prep for Glee Club, Mr Schue asked anyone who can, to return to help.”

“Yeah, we’re both going back for that.”

“Yeah, Rachel and I will be too, wouldn’t miss it! I swear I’m more excited about it than Blaine is!”

“How is Blaine?”

“Waiting to find out if he got into NYADA, he’s a wreck,” Kurt sounded amused, “I’m sure he’s going to get in.”

Finn took a moment to reflect, “It’s all really startin’ to happen now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I feel really good… about how everything is going,” Kurt agreed.

“Good talk,” Finn really meant it, “we should get dinner, Friday night, once the audition is over.”

“Me _and_ Rachel?”

“Your call, you know best, where’s she’s at.”

“I’m not sure, maybe, I’ll see how she’s feeling after the audition,” Kurt suggested, “It’s just a casual hang right?”

“Yeah, totally low key.

“Cool. I gotta go. Vogue.”

“See ya Friday, buddy.”


End file.
